


Seasons Change (and so do we)

by slyth_princess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, First Time, Hogwarts Eighth Year, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-War, questionable mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyth_princess/pseuds/slyth_princess
Summary: The war is over and everyone has been changed. This is especially true for our favorite group of wizards and witches, back and Hogwarts to complete their eighth year. In a world where nothing is the same as it used to be, it makes sense for new alliances to form, friendships to grow, and love to blossom where it never could have before. But not before they hit some bumps along the way.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 23
Kudos: 134
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressSage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressSage/gifts).



> This work has been created for the Pen15 is Mightier 2019 gift exchange. I was lucky enough to get a giftee who did not have too many specifications other than enjoying slow burn and sex. I hope I have delivered. This story started out of a silly little prompt I got in a Drarry facebook group which I proceeded to barely use and went a bit off the rails. So, Krystal, I hope you love what I've created for you.
> 
> Despite two nasty colds, planning my wedding, traveling to a foreign county for 9 days, having a job, and still being in school, I managed to get it done. My original projection for this fic was around 15k. Clearly I got a bit over-enthusiastic.
> 
> Either way, I had a ton of fun writing it and I hope you all like the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a labor of love, truly.
> 
> Finally, I have to say that none of this would have been possible without my wonderful beta, lolitaweasley. She pushed me, refined my story, and was a wonderful cheerleader from start to finish. Thank you for making this story everything it has become. That being said, any errors still there are mine alone and definitely a product of me not being able to leave the story alone even after she approved it!

When the war ended, the battle lines that had once seemed so clear began to fade and with them so too did old prejudices. As the citizens of the wizarding world began to get used to their new normal other things began to change as well as people began to reassess what was important and who they were, leaving many to realize that some fundamental things about them had changed forever. These changes were evident in even the most far-reaching corners of their world but few places showed it as clearly as Hogwarts, home to the final battle and central point for the start and end of everything. Some of these shifts in perspective were small while others were life-changingly monumental.

You saw it in the way Luna Lovegood had stopped wearing her turnip earrings and butterbeer cap necklaces. You saw it in the way Neville Longbottom now walked with his head held high, smiling at the people he passed and looking them in the eye when he spoke. It was there in the way Pansy Parkinson kept her head down and tried her hardest not to draw too much attention. It was in how Lavender Brown rarely smiled but refused to take anyone’s pity for her scars. Everywhere you looked people had been changed. Ginny Weasley alternated between anger and sadness in equal measure, Justin Finch-Fletchery became quiet and withdrawn, and Blaise Zabini could be found talking with and helping people from every house during his free time.

No one was left unchanged after the final battle. Everyone walked away with scars, whether on their skin or their souls. Those scars led to mistrust but also new unity. There was a sense of reluctant calm in the air as people began to rebuild their homes, their lives, and themselves. It was shown through new friendships and broken relationships. It was in the way few slept through the night and nightmares didn’t always fade upon waking. Everywhere you looked there were declarations, whether in loud promises or quiet apologies. Change seeped out of people’s skin into the air and ground and sky. Nothing could stay the same.

More than anywhere else, it was in two boys, once representatives for opposite sides of war they were too young to fight, shaking hands among the still fresh rubble and deciding they could no longer be enemies. Not after everything they had been through together. But that was just the beginning of their story.


	2. Summer

In the days following the final battle, Harry was surprised to find how normal everything seemed. At least whatever their new normal was now. He was sleeping in a bed again without having to set a million and one detection spells to keep them safe. He was eating at regular intervals with Molly shoving extra portions at him, for once being right that he looked underfed. He was spending time with his friends, reading the Prophet for news on the ministry elections, and spending his nights enjoying the rapidly warming summer air while looking up at the stars of a world that was no longer burning.

Sure, there were the trials. Harry avoided most of them but did show up for two. The Malfoy’s were tried together but with separate convictions. Harry wasn’t sure this was exactly fair but with how many they needed to get through and the speed at which newly appointed Minister Shacklebolt hoped to get through them, he supposed he understood. At their trial, he spoke up about the role Narcissa and Draco had played in securing his survival. He said nothing about Lucius. No one was surprised or all that upset when Draco was set free on condition of parole served at Hogwarts, Narcissa put on house arrest to be watched by her long-estranged sister (at Andromeda’s surprising invitation), and Lucius was sentenced to life in the newly renovated (aka, no dementors) version of Azkaban.

The second trial was one that was quick but certainly not painless and one Harry himself had insisted upon. It was the posthumous appeal trial for Sirius Black. Upon quick review of the facts, all charges were dropped and he was awarded the Order of Merlin First Class for his acts in both wars. Harry knew it would never be enough but it would have to do. Finally, even though it was after death, his godfather could truly be free.

Yet, despite how normal everything felt, he felt as if parts of his reality had shifted. For one, there was his relationship with Ginny. In a night of passion and grief, they had lost themselves in each other. It had been exactly what they both needed but not what either of them wanted. After, she rolled over and looked him in the eye and told him she thought she was gay. He admitted he thought he might be a little bit too. They laughed and hugged and that was it.

Also, there were his friends. With Ron and Hermione together, they seemed to have less time for him, even before they headed off for Australia to try to fix her parents. He wasn’t mad about it, not exactly. But it did highlight the extreme loneliness and lack of purpose that had begun to settle in Harry’s bones.

Voldemort was dead. His friends were moving on. There was nothing left for him to do and it made him restless. That was why when the letter came asking for volunteers to help rebuild Hogwarts before the next school year would commence he jumped at the chance. It gave him an opportunity to do something useful and, even more appealing, let him stave off the growing pressure of who the fuck Harry Potter was now and who he was going to become.

It was one month to the day since he had walked away from Hogwarts and arriving at the gates of Hogsmeade was the first time Harry felt he could breathe in longer than he could remember. The feeling was short-lived, however, as he made his way up the familiar path and saw the carnage that the final battle had left behind.

Chunks of the castle were missing and charred away to nothing. Some pillars had fallen and entire walls had been reduced to crumbling piles of bricks. The stone pathways were pocketed with holes and the bridges were punctuated with missing banisters and dangling spires. Every courtyard, lawn, and garden was a black, gnarled mess of metal and stone with little left alive. Harry had been in such a daze the last time he was here that he hadn’t realized how bad it had been. If this was what the outside looked like he dreaded seeing the inside.

As he got closer, his stomach turned. Though the bodies had all been removed there was still a faint stench of burned flesh in the air and the bloodstains of the fallen had changed the once vibrant green around the castle a brown and red mess. Suddenly it was all too much and Harry was forced to flee to a nearby bush to empty the contents of his stomach.

How could they ever hope to get this place ready by the time the school year began?

It was with shaking hands wiping his mouth clean that Luna found him.

“Hello Harry,” Luna said, some of the dreaminess he remembered gone from her tone, not that Harry was all that surprised.

“Hi Luna,” Harry said, giving his friend a long hug. He seemed to give a lot of those nowadays.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she said into his shoulder before pulling back just enough to look up at the wreckage with him. “It’s dreadful, isn’t it? Hard to believe all of this damage to a castle that has stood for more than a thousand years could happen in just a few hours.”

The pair stood for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts and remembering, grieving, and taking what little comfort they could from each other.

“Come on,” she finally said, breaking the dark silence that had enveloped them both, “let's go see the others.”

“How many are here already?”

“Not many. We won’t really get started until the weekend but some of us didn’t want to be home anymore. And some of us have nowhere else to go. Despite appearances, Hogwarts is still a safe haven for a lot of people in a world that isn’t always kind or fair.”

Harry snorted. “Life isn’t fair, Luna.”

Luna smiled a bit and rolled her eyes, effectively ignoring him. “Let’s see,” she continued, “Neville has been staying in Hogsmeade with his gran. Their house got destroyed a few months ago and she is thinking of just settling there to be closer to him instead of rebuilding. You know he may be taking an internship under Professor Sprout?”

“I had heard that,” Harry said. “Good for him. He’ll be brilliant at it.”

“He’s brilliant at everything,” Luna said and flushed a bit at the admission but Harry didn’t mention it. “Anyways, Dean and Seamus got here this morning. They are staying in the castle. We’ve also got the Patil twins, Justin Finch-Fletchery, and Draco.”

Harry tripped over his feet. “Malfoy’s here?”

“You sound surprised,” Luna said with a single quirked eyebrow.

“I mean,” Harry stammered, “I guess, yeah. I am a bit. He never seemed like the volunteering type.”

“With a house crawling with Aurors, a past associated with the wrong side, and a lot to atone for I can’t imagine anywhere else more fitting for him to be. If you have too many ghosts to hide from you might as well start facing them at the place you created them.”

Harry considered this and realized she was right. After all, it wasn’t that different from what Harry had been doing. “When did you get so wise?”

“I always have been,” she told him, “it just sometimes takes people a while to notice.”

Before he could reply they reached the others in what had once been the great hall. Admittedly, it didn’t look quite as grim inside as it had outside. It was clear that restoration work had already begun here as the rubble had been cleared and the bloodstains no longer marked the floors. He made sure to avert his eyes from where he remembered Fred, Tonks, and Lupin’s bodies had been. He couldn’t face it. Not yet.

“Harry!” Neville said, coming up to give him a strong-armed hug that knocked the breath out of Harry. “I’m glad you came. More people will be showing up over the next few weeks but the more strong wizards we have the better.”

“I’m happy to help,” Harry told him, sincerely glad to see his friend.

“Come sit, Neville told him, gesturing to the one table that had been cleaned and fixed sitting in the middle of the room. “We were just starting lunch. Nothing too fancy, just some roast chicken sandwiches, corn chowder, and sausage rolls. But it’s all good and hot. There’s even pumpkin juice.”

Harry took a minute to observe before he joined his friends. Looking around there were about fifteen people so far. He was pretty sure they were at had once been the Hufflepuff table. It was odd seeing such a mix of people, many who had not gotten along before the war, sitting around and chatting as if this was normal.

Then again, maybe now it would be.

Without meaning to, Harry’s eyes drifted to Malfoy. Not that he was surprised. They had been doing that since he was eleven years old. The blonde had certainly seen better days but did look much better than he had at his trial. Gone were the bags under his eyes and sunken cheeks. Now he looked more like the pointy git Harry had known half his life, with his head held haughtily and air of indifference on his face.

Yet, something was different. Though he didn’t seem to participate much in the conversation, he did give the occasional polite nod or word to something directed at him. Also, he was actually smiling now and then. Not a sneer. But a real genuine smile. Harry wasn’t sure he had ever seen that before but he couldn’t help feeling it did wonders for the man’s face.

Of course, as he was having that traitorous thought the bastard looked up, seeming to notice him for the first time, and froze. A beat went by and then another before Malfoy gave a small nod. When Harry returned it the other man gave him a small smile and went back to his conversation with Luna beside him. Harry tried to ignore how happy that small action made him.

Yeah, this could be the new normal. A little battered, a little bruised, but definitely better.

Like the rest of them, save for Neville who was living in Hogsmeade now, everyone else seemed to be staying in the castle. There was a tower on the far side of the building that had taken very little damage so it as the first place to receive renovations and where they each stayed. With so few of them it wasn’t hard to each have their own room and Harry had to admit, it was nice to spend some time alone. Not that he didn’t love being with Ron but he certainly wouldn’t miss the snoring. Besides, it was better to have nightmares when you were alone and no one could ask you if you were ok after because, honestly, of course, he wasn’t but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.

Like Luna and Neville had predicted, many more people did show up over the next week. They had started to renovate the common rooms and dorms so those who were staying would have somewhere to go. Additionally, the kitchens and great hall looked almost as good as new within a week and the classrooms were next. Overall, Harry was beginning to believe they would be able to get the school ready in time. It wouldn’t be perfect, mind, but it would be ready for students and teachers and healing. He supposed that was enough.

What Harry hadn’t been prepared for was the overwhelming sense of loneliness that choked him more and more each day. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anyone here. He ate with Dean and Seamus a lot, took walks on the ground with Luna, and learned all kinds of repairing and cleaning spells from Neville. Yet, while he was rarely actually alone he had never felt as much so in his life as he did now.

So between the nightmares and the loneliness, he began to take walks. Sometimes around the lake, sometimes among the rubble, once by the quidditch pitch but that made him so angry he never tried it again, and when he was feeling particularly maudlin he even would go up and just sit in front of the room of requirement wondering if the fire still raged inside.

It was here Malfoy found him. Harry had been crying remembering the fear and the heat and the fact that, not long later, he would walk off to his death. Before everything, he might have felt ashamed. But he didn’t. Besides, before Malfoy probably would have made fun of him. He didn’t.

That had to mean something.

Instead his former rival and current… well, Harry wasn’t sure what he was, but anyways, Malfoy came and sat with him.

Harry supposed the silence that stretched what could have been hours should have been awkward but somehow it wasn’t. So they sat and looked, both lost in their own personal hell of memories, and it was nice, in its own way.

“It’s still burning,” Malfoy said quietly, the sound still seeming astronomically loud in the empty hallway, “in case that’s one of the things you were wondering about.”

Harry peered over at him and studied his unexpected companion. Malfoy’s silver eyes looked stormy and sad, locked on the shadow of a door that had never fully faded back into the walls of the corridor as if the magic had run out before it could finish. It was now stuck somewhere between door and decoration.

Malfoy turned and looked Harry right in the eyes which was when he first realized how close they were. Harry refused to back away and show his discomfort but the proximity was making his head swim.

He coughed nervously and looked away but could feel Malfoy’s eyes on him. “How do you know?” Harry asked, feigning nonchalance.

Malfoy smiled and stood, going over to the not quite door and putting his hand on it. “Come here,” he said.

Harry obeyed, joining Malfoy and putting his hand out next to where the other man’s already rested. He quickly pulled back, surprised.

“It’s hot!” Harry exclaimed, surprised. Why had he never thought to check?

“Yeah,” Malfoy said. “I don’t think there’s a threat though. I think the fiendfyre might have sucked all the power out of the room. It’s contained deep enough in the magic of Hogwarts that the room likely can never be opened again.”

The thought made Harry’s heart constrict.

“It’s strange,” Malfoy said, a far off look in his eyes, “it just being gone, I mean. It was such a massive part of Hogwarts' history. Generations of students and teachers used that room. For hiding, for thinking, for shagging.”

Harry laughed and blushed and Malfoy smirked at him. “Shut up,” Harry said, shoving him slightly in the shoulder. “I know what you mean though. In fifth year we had our D.A. lessons there. I spent so much time in that room. It’s a shame it’s just gone.”

“Oh yeah,” Malfoy said with a laugh. “I nearly forgot about that. Man, Umbridge was certainly in a snit about that.”

“Well,” Harry said, trying not to be too annoyed but still feeling out of sorts about the whole thing, “you certainly didn’t help.”

Malfoy’s face instantly fell. “I never did apologize.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Not just for that,” Malfoy said, sliding back down to the floor again beside the not quite door. Harry hesitated for a moment before joining him, close enough that their legs just brushed. He tried not to read too much into the comfort he got when Malfoy pressed back.

“Potter,” he started, voice sounding tight and full of seven years of guilt. “Merlin, I have so much to ask for forgiveness for. Bullying you and your friends, trying to get you kicked out, breaking your nose, literally trying to kill you. I was terrible to you since the moment we met. You should bloody hate me. How can you even be sitting here by me after all that I did?”

Harry laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “You’re right about a lot of it,” he said. “You were a right prick to me. But I just finished fighting a war based on hate and a lack of forgiveness. I’m done fighting. I just want to move on.”

“Me too,” Malfoy said, voice just above a whisper. Harry wasn’t even sure he was meant to hear it.

“Besides,” Harry continued, putting a hand on Malfoy’s knee, “in the end you saved my life, more than once. You may have followed Voldemort in the beginning but by the end, you had changed. You were scared. Your family was on one side, you had been shown a nasty side of reality from the time you were born. And it wasn’t like I didn’t give as good as I got. I have my fair share of apologies to give too.”

Malfoy looked at Harry for a long moment before standing. Harry did too.

“Then I propose we start over,” Malfoy said and held out his hand nervously. “Hi. My name is Draco Malfoy. I may not be able to help guide you because clearly, I need that guidance more than you do but I can certainly be your friend. And maybe you can help me figure out the right sort of people since clearly I haven’t always made the best choices on my own.”

Harry smiled and shook his head before taking the blonde’s hand. “Friends,” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

After that, Harry and Malfoy settled into somewhat of a rhythm. During the day they all worked on the rebuild. As expected, volunteers came and went. Some were there just for a day here and there on days off from work or when they happened to be in the area for a funeral or event or something. Some would stay for a few nights in one of the fully renovated dorms before leaving to get back to their normal lives. But some were there for the long haul. Those intending to stay for the duration of the project become a bit of a tight-knit group.

Neville, Luna, Justin, Malfoy, and Harry made up the core of the group. Lavender and the Patils came for long periods as well and folded in easily when they were around. Dean and Seamus were there often enough along with Ginny, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini who, inexplicably, had all become friends at some point.

The work was divided up among the students and teachers alike. Some was so intricate it required working together as a group. Professor McGonagall and Flitwick have taught them enough spells that Harry doubted any of them would fail Transfiguration or Charms this year. Most of the spells could be done individually though so they all spent a lot of time by themselves.

Even still, certain divisions began to pop up as certain people gravitated towards one another. Malfoy and Harry were no exception.

On a particularly hot day near the end of July Harry was working on a badly damaged section of the exterior courtyard when he felt what seemed to be an entire bucket of water drench him from above.

Furious his eyes snapped over to Malfoy who was doubled over with laughter.

“You were looking a tad overheated, Potter,” he managed between breaths, “feeling better now?”

“I’m not sure, Malfoy,” Harry said with an imperceptible wave of his wand behind his back. Suddenly Malfoy, too, was drenched to the bone. “You tell me?”

Malfoy looks murderous but the effect was somewhat dampened by the fact that Malfoy was, well, damp.

From there, the two boys managed to get into a friendly kind of duel. They sent tickling jinxes, jelly legs, bat bogey hexes, and streams of water at each other. Eventually, some of the others joined in until it became a huge water and prank spell fight. Everyone was laughing and soaked. It was the most fun they had had in ages.

After the fight was broken up by a cross looking McGonagall and an amused looking Professor Sprout everyone slowly got back to work. An occasional bat still swooped through the quad as hexes faded and there was water everywhere but Harry wasn’t worried. It would all dry.

The other part of Harry’s new normal, and probably the part he liked best, were his evenings. Most nights, everyone ate dinner together in the great hall. It was never a big affair, but now that all of the tables had been fixed and set back up as well as the kitchens below them, the meals were a larger affair. People filled up many spaces at all of the different tables, regardless of their house. But his little group always remained mostly intact.

After eating, Harry would take time to enjoy the stillness outside. Repairs didn’t continue at night so most of the outer corridors and courtyards were empty once the sun started to go down. And many of these nights, he was not alone.

“Feeling nostalgic again, Potter?” Malfoy asked when he found him that evening, like so many before, sitting on the newly growing grass in the middle of what had once been the quidditch pitch. Collectively, it had been decided that this would be one of the last things repaired. The stands and general structures had been torn down for safety but nothing had been rebuilt yet. The grass was beginning to come back, healthy and vibrant green. However, all that was left to show what the area had once been were the two sets of hoops marking what had been the two ends of the stadium. He knew they would be getting to it soon but, for now, the sight made him a bit sad.

Harry often found himself out here when he needed to think. Or mope, as Malfoy constantly accused him of. He didn’t think too much about what it meant that Malfoy knew that and still always came out to find him.

“You know me,” Harry said as Malfoy joined him on the ground, “I’m sure my eyes are, what was it, swimming with the ghosts of my past?”

Malfoy chuckled and handed him a cup of tea he must have nicked from the kitchens. “I’m pretty sure it was glistening not swimming.”

“That’s right,” Harry said, sipping his cup. It was perfect. “This is exactly what I needed. Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Do you want to know what would make it even better?” Malfoy said with a devilish grin that absolutely did not go directly to Harry’s groin. And then Malfoy pulled out a silver and green flask.

Harry laughed and shook his head at his friend. “You would have a Slytherin flask.”

Malfoy snorted. “I jacked it from Theodore Nott in fifth year. I would have gotten rid of it but he charmed it so you can link it to any bottle and it will keep refilling itself even if the bottle is pretty far away. I’m not quite that tacky, Potter.”

“Sure,” he said, pouring a good measure of what he assumed was Malfoy’s favorite whiskey in his cup. It was Irish and smooth with just enough burn to make Harry forget everything for a little while.

They did this a lot. Drinking together. Sometimes the loneliness and desire for atonement got to be too much for them both. So, instead of dealing with it like the adults they had been forced to become far too soon, they took to getting pissed and talking about things they wouldn’t dare admit in the morning light.

It seemed tonight would be one of those nights.

“I had another dream about him,” Malfoy said as he sipped his tea.

“Last night?” Harry asked, already knowing Malfoy dreamed about Voldemort most nights.

He sighed. “Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as some of the others but it still sucked. I don’t remember a lot but the red eyes. Always the fucking eyes.”

“I get it,” Harry said, finishing his drink and holding out his mug for more. This time Malfoy brought out a bottle of firewhiskey.

“I got this for you,” he said, embarrassed.

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, not only at the rapid topic change but also this unexpected gift. “You got me this?”

“Yes, Potter. Happy birthday.”

Harry startled. He hadn’t even realized. “Am I dumbass if I say I forgot it was my birthday?”

“Don’t worry,” Malfoy said, pouring himself another drink from his ridiculous flask, “you are a dumbass for a lot more reasons than just forgetting your own birthday.”

“Piss off,” Harry said, laughing.

“That’s the general idea, yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” Harry said, nervously tearing apart some grass between his fingers.

Malfoy suddenly became serious and turned to Harry. “You can ask me anything. That’s what these nights are about, right?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I think they are.”

“Good,” Malfoy said, seeming to sag with relief and he lay back on the grass and looked at the sky, face turned toward Harry. “So what did you want to ask me?”

“Why do you still call me Potter?” Harry asked.

Malfoy smiled. “Why do you still call me Malfoy?”

Harry shoved him and then fell back on the grass as well, whiskey going to his head. “I asked you first.”

Malfoy didn’t answer him and Harry let it drop. For now at least.

They stayed out late that night. Malfoy told him stories about the different constellations he and his family were named after. Harry told him stories from his childhood like the one about the snake at the zoo. Not everything they shared was happy but with Malfoy, it didn’t have to be. The other man never pitied him or told him it would be ok. He simply listened and then told him some other horror he had been through. Out here Harry didn’t have to be a hero or a victim. He could just be an eighteen-year-old boy getting to know someone as equals.

Honestly, it was the most at peace he had felt in a long time. Days of hard work and laughing with friends, both new and old. Nights drinking and talking with someone unexpected. And everything in between. He hoped this new normal would continue when the new school year started.

He should have seen it coming when everything blew up in his face two weeks before the term started.

“Can you believe the repairs are basically finished?” Neville asked as they worked the joint spell that was rebuilding the stands around the quidditch pitch.

“Honestly?” Harry asked as they slotted the final section of stairs into place and settled back to admire their work. “Not really. When I showed up here at the start of summer I never thought we would finish. Yet here we are. There’s still some cosmetic shit to get done and a lot of the protective magic the teachers have been working on repairing but overall it looks like Hogwarts again.”

As they sat and sipped on their waters Malfoy and Luna came over from there they had just finished the commentary box. 

“Looking good over here,” Malfoy said, eyes locked with Harry’s. He tried not to blush as the probably unintended way that comment sounded.

“Yeah,” Neville said, casting another cooling charm over the space now that the magic wouldn’t interfere with their construction spells, “it turned out alright. My painting charms are shite though. I’ll need to get Pansy to come to do that. She is weirdly good about them. But once the house colors and other decorative elements are up this place will really feel like it used to.”

“I mean,” Luna said, “will it though? Will anything ever really feel like it used to or just a new version of what we used to have.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “You feeling ok today, Luna?”

Harry knew they all still had tough days. Luna had recently found out her father was not improving and may have to be moved to a long term care facility. She had been even less like herself since.

Neville put his arm around her shoulders and she gave a small smile. “I suppose so,” she said, tucking herself tightly against Neville’s side. “Today is just a hard day I guess.”

“We all have them,” Malfoy said.

“That’s why you have us,” Neville said, hugging her a bit tighter.

“I feel very lucky to call you all my friends,” Luna said as she began to cry, just a little.

“Come on,” Neville said, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go get some dinner. You guys coming?”

“In a minute,” Malfoy said, not budging from where he had sat by Harry, closer than likely necessary but certainly welcome proximity.

“Yeah,” Harry said, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice. “We’ll catch up in a bit. Don’t eat all the Yorkshire puddings!”

Neville gave him a two-finger salute over his shoulder and he and Luna made their way back to ground level.

And then he and Malfoy were alone.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been alone near constantly lately because they definitely had. Somehow, between teasing barbs, hex fights in the quad, and late nights of drinking and talking Malfoy had become… something else to Harry. Not friends, or at least not just friends. No, there was something else between them.

He was certain Malfoy felt it too. The tension had been building between them for weeks now. Between lingering touches and too-long eye contact, between heated gazes and hushed words, between seeking comfort in the firm press on their legs together under dining tables, and between lots of almosts and maybes they had somehow become more.

“Why didn’t you want to go back with Neville and Luna,” Malfoy asked, eyes closed, basking in the early evening sun as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon.

“Why didn’t you?” Harry retorted with a smile.

Malfoy smiled at him and sat up with his arms holding him up against the bleachers.

“I asked you first.”

The moment stretched and the sun lowered even more. Still, they just sat, smiling and too close, until Harry felt drunk with it.

He wasn’t sure who moved first but soon their lips were moving together, hands buried in hair and slipping under t-shirts. It was altogether too much and nowhere close to enough.

The kiss was gentler than Harry would have expected but twice as needy. When Malfoy’s hand found his hip he gasped involuntarily and Malfoy took it as an excuse to let his tongue wander into Harry’s mouth, exploring and hungry. Harry pressed them even closer, despite the awkward angle of the bleachers.

It didn’t feel like a first kiss as much as a culmination of everything that had been building between them. This was more than a summer of tension and coming together. This was years being dissolved between them. This was more than lust, more than want. Harry needed him, just like this.

Malfoy then leaned back and Harry was half on top of him. Hands went everywhere as the two tried to get even closer, impossibly closer. He could feel himself straining against the fabric of his too-tight jeans and, if the bulge at his hip was any indication, Malfoy was just as affected.

He wanted more. He wanted everything. The thought was equal parts terrifying and exciting

And just as suddenly as it started Malfoy pulled back, just enough to breathe. He rested their foreheads together as he tried to catch his breath and slow his rapidly beating heart.

“Harry,” Malfoy whispered against his lips.

The sound of his name, so full of need and pain and guilt and hope was like a chilling charm had been cast up Harry’s spine.

Then he panicked. And then he ran.

He went straight to his room, ignoring the calls of his friends as he ran past the dinner that had already started. He ignored the stares of those still in the common room. He was sure he looked crazy, the hair even more of a mess than usual, shirt untucked, going as fast as he could toward his room at the top of the tower. He locked the door and shoved the desk in front of it for good measure as everything came crashing down around him.

Throwing himself on his bed, Harry mentally ran back through everything that had happened this summer trying to figure out when he had fallen for Draco sodding Malfoy. He couldn’t pinpoint it, it felt like it had almost always been there. Somewhere below the surface. He ran his hands over his face and screamed into his pillow.

What the fuck had just happened? He knew what had almost happened. The need, the want, was still there, stronger than ever. He and Malfoy had always been like magnets, drawn to each other. But the way had changed and he knew he would never be able to go back.

But he was also fairly sure he had just fucked everything up. He was scared. He was excited. He wasn’t ready for everything he was feeling. Yet there it was, undeniable.

He palmed himself, aching with need and want, and groaned loudly. Before he could think too much about it, instinct and need took over and Harry quickly undid the button on his trousers and let his hand snake down to exactly where he needed it.

As he stroked himself, a bit rough but slow enough to draw it out, he thought of what had just happened. The taste of Malfoy’s tongue was still fresh on his lips, he could still feel Malfoy’s lithe body below him as his bulge pressed against Harry’s thigh, still see his piercing great eyes with their pupils blown wide enough to steal most of that glorious color.

Harry’s hand quickened its pace as he remembered the sound of his name falling from those beautiful lips, plump and red from his punishing assault. The sound of it reverberated through Harry’s head and with a single swipe of his thumb over the head of his swollen dick he came hard and cried out Draco’s name.

Physically sated, confused, and deeply guilty, Harry fell into a fitful sleep and stayed that way straight through dinner.

The next two days Harry and Draco avoided each other to the point that even Nevile noticed.

“Did you fall out or something?” Neville asked as they worked on putting some finishing touches on the newly expanded greenhouses.

It was hot and sweaty work with no ventilation and Harry would have rather been anywhere else. That’s how he knew Draco wouldn’t be there which meant it was perfect.

Harry really was being a fucking coward.

“Not exactly,” Harry said not meeting his friend’s eyes, choosing to not quite lie but not quite be truthful. “We didn’t fight or anything like that. More like something weird happened and we haven’t really talked since.”

“Is this because you finally realized you are in love with him?” Luna asked airily from her perch high above them as she floated flowers and what looked suspiciously like fairies around the walls near the ceiling.

Harry almost choked on his tongue.

“Are you honestly just figuring that out?” Neville asked. “That’s surprising. I’ve known that for ages. Dean and Seamus thought you were already together and just preferred to be private. Ginny even asked how long you’d been shagging the last time she was here.”

"The problem is I'm not even totally sure how I feel," Harry said and groaned, sitting on a bench in the corner, head in his hands. “Am I really that transparent?”

Neville shot him a sympathetic look and put his hand on his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better,” he said with a reassuring smile, “Draco is nearly as bad as you. Moony eyes and secret smiles and always watching you. It’s sweet, actually. I think you two would be good together if you got your heads out of your arses and did something about it.”

At the end of the day, Harry’s head was swimming. His thoughts kept drifting between the way Draco had said his name to his shame at running away back to Neville saying Draco was crazy about him. Lather, rinse, repeat. He couldn’t process any of it so he did what he always did to calm down now that the pitch was finished: he went flying.

Something about the wind on his face as he spiraled and dipped and dashed through the air. Up here it was like he had left his cares and fears on the ground. Up here, it didn’t matter that he had basically jumped the boy who had somehow become his best friend. Up here he didn’t have to figure out what he thought Draco felt or how to find out. It didn’t matter that he had been avoiding said best friend for two days or that everyone apparently knew how Harry felt before Harry even did. It didn’t even matter what he felt. Up here he could just fly and leave everything behind.

When he eventually touched down, face windburned and more than a little cold, he couldn’t help the smile on his face. For at least a little while he wanted to enjoy the high. At least that was his intention until he saw who was waiting for him in the middle of the pitch. The flash of blonde hair sucked all the air from his lungs.

“I swear one of these days you will actually remember to cast the wind repelling charms on your damn cheeks so you don't come off your sodding broom looking like a red pygmy puff,” Draco said, casting the skin-softening spell he had been trying to teach Harry since the first time they flew together, weeks ago now.

“Maybe I like looking like a pygmy puff,” Harry said and laughed when Draco grimaced. “What! They’re cute!”

“Perhaps if you’re a first-year Hufflepuff,” Draco quipped.

And then a silence fell over them. Not the comfortable, companionable kind they had been able to enjoy the last few weeks. No. This was the ugly, itchy kind that only stemmed from two people having a lot they needed to say but neither being able to say it.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Draco said, not looking up from his feet.

“You’re not wrong.”

Draco sighed and then pulled out his flask before conjuring a blanket to sit on. The ground had been damp since the weather had begun to turn toward fall and the evenings were dewy and moist. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s poshness but couldn’t help but smile. He gladly took the flask and took a deep pull. It was his favorite whiskey.

As the warmth filtered its way through his veins they both laid on the ground looking at the stars. “How much do you know about Chinese mythology?” Draco asked.

“Honestly?” Harry said with a laugh, “probably about as much as you know about how to work a television.”

Draco shoved Harry but smiled.

“In China, the legend speaks of a forbidden romance between a girl represented by Vega,” Draco said, taking Harry’s hand to point in the direction of the star he was referring to, “and a humble farm boy represented by Altair.”

After lowering both of their hands Draco didn’t let go but began running his fingers over Harry’s palm and through the spaces between Harry’s fingers. Harry let out a shuddering breath and let his eyes drift closed, letting the feeling of whiskey and Draco’s fingers mix with the gentle sound of the man’s voice lead him deeper into the trance his stories always seemed to weave. 

“Their parents didn’t approve of their relationship. There are a number of reasons given depending on the version of the story being told but one common thread is that they acted as too big of a distraction to each other. As the lovers fell deeper and deeper into each other the parents of each decided it was time for it to stop so they separated them by creating a river between them. The river was too massive and treacherous to pass. Like the lovers, the stars Vega and Altair are separated in the night sky by the Milky Way, or Celestial River.”

“The story doesn’t have a completely sad ending, however. The magpies saw the pain the two were in so they took pity on them. For one night a year, on the seventh night of the seventh moon, a bridge of magpies forms across the Celestial River, and the two lovers are reunited. They are allowed to share this one night before they are separated once more.”

Harry’s eyes opened slowly as Draco’s hand stilled in his. When he faced the other man he saw grey eyes already focused intently on him.

“Draco,” Harry breathed, voice barely a whisper.

Draco leaned down slowly, giving Harry a chance to stop him if he wanted, before finally pressing their lips together. Harry immediately melted into their soft but insistent heat. The kiss wasn’t quite gentle but lacked the desperate fire the kiss from before had. It was as if Draco wanted to draw it out, make the moment last. Almost as if he thought it wouldn’t. They moved together, as in sync as they always were. Their lips, tongues, and bodies becoming one.

When Harry threaded his fingers into Draco's impossibly soft hair the other man let out a low moan that went straight to Harry’s aching cock and suddenly he needed more. So much more. Pulling their bodies even closer together, the feeling of Draco’s erection pressed against his own showed the feeling was reciprocated. They pushed against each, rutting together against too many clothes and hands explored every inch of each other's bodies.

Draco was fit, that much was clear. As Harry’s hand slipped inside Draco’s shirt and found the skin of his back he could feel the lithe muscles expanding and contracting as they moved together. Finally, they broke for air but did not part. All Harry could see were silver eyes with their pupils blown wide, lips swollen from their enthusiasm, and rosy cheeks and Harry knew he was done for. 

When Draco sat up and removed his shirt leaving him straddling Harry in nothing but his trousers Harry’s mouth went dry. He traced his fingers over Draco’s chest, heaving from exertion, marveling at the ivory skin and tight muscles he found. He tried not to think too long on the series of scars transecting the otherwise flawless expanse of skin in front of him and instead focussed on the man.

“Beautiful,” Harry said as he touched him and Draco laughed quietly. He had known Draco was handsome, that much had been increasingly clear throughout this summer. But he had never known how much he would enjoy just the sight of the man, thighs gripping Harry’s waist, skin iridescent in the moonlight, looking at him like he never wanted to be anywhere else.

And Merlin, Harry wanted him. He wanted to know what the man tasted like, he wanted to know what their skin would feel like together. He wanted to discover all the ways to make Draco fall apart and all the ways he could put him back together again. He wanted to hear his name dripping out of his posh lips like a mantra as he came. He wanted to be the thing Draco thought about when he wanked at night. He wanted him.

So Harry pushed him back and began slowly taking his own clothes off as well. He took his time, never looking away from Draco. Draco’s eyes wandered the length of Harry’s body but it didn’t make him feel ashamed. Instead, he felt invigorated and more turned on than he ever had in his life. When he was finally naked Draco hesitated a moment before following suit. Harry couldn’t look away.

Laying down again Harry had a brief moment where he wondered if he should be concerned that they were completely starkers in the middle of the quidditch pitch with a good number of their classmates and professors not far away. But then Draco touched him and suddenly Harry couldn’t have cared less about anything.

The touch was tentative, exploring. Just a brush of fingers against Harry’s over sensitive tip but it was enough to send him reeling. Without warning, he pulled them together into another bruising kiss. When Malfoy moaned into his mouth again Harry couldn’t wait any longer. He snaked his hand between them and grabbed Draco. He slid his hand over the head, already glistening with precum, and moaned right back into Draco’s mouth.

The kiss became sloppy as their hands moved in an uneven rhythm, both men jerking into it. Harry had never felt something as incredible in his entire life. After a few moments, Draco pulled them closer swatting Harry’s hand away. When he took both of their lengths in one hand Harry nearly came right there. He was able to glance down and see them together, his dark and Draco’s light, as the man’s hand-pumped over them. Harry could feel himself getting closer to the edge.

“Oh gods, Harry,” Draco moaned and Harry’s eyes snapped up. Draco’s eyes were closed and his head thrown back in pleasure. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever seen.

He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer but he knew he wanted to try to hold out until Draco finished. He latched his mouth to the dip of Draco’s neck and sucked lightly, causing the other man to buck harder and moan louder. Harry smiled as he licked a trail to Draco’s ear.

“Come for me?” Harry asked, biting on the man’s earlobe.

Draco moaned loud into Harry’s ear and his other hand pulled lightly on Harry’s hair. And then with one, two, three pulls he felt the warmth shoot right on his stomach as Draco finished, pulling Harry right along with him.

They rode out the waves of their orgasm holding each other, Harry’s hand carding along Draco’s back, the man’s breath tickling his neck. When they did finally part they didn’t go far. They backed up just enough for Draco to rest his head in the crook of Harry’s arm, catching his breath and running his fingers over Harry’s chest.

When it began to get a bit cold, Harry did a quick cleaning charm on them both and Draco pulled back, smiling.

“We should probably get back,” Draco said. “As much as I would like to stay out here all night I’m fairly certain the watering charms are back up and running and I suspect we would get fairly well soaked if we stay out here too much longer.”

Harry pulled Draco down for another kiss before he replied. “Come to my room?”

Draco frowned a bit so Harry kissed it away causing Draco to shake his head. “You are impossible, did you know that?”

“I believe I may have been told once or twice,” Harry said. “It’s ok if you say no but I would really like it if you said yes. We don’t have to do anything other than sleep. I just want to be close to you.”

Draco hesitated a moment longer before nodding. “Alright,” he said. “But just sleep. I’m knackered and our most recent little activity took any energy I had left.”

“Sleep sounds perfect,” Harry said with a grin.

The two got their clothes back on, Harry kissing Draco’s shoulder or cheek or lips occasionally and the other playfully swatting him off. They did finally make it to Harry’s room, however, and they wasted no time getting back down to their pants. They mostly behaved, albeit with a little lazy touching and kissing.

When they did finally settle, Draco’s head on his chest and leg casually draped over Harry’s, he couldn’t help feeling like he could get used to this.

“Goodnight, Draco,” Harry said, voice heavy with tiredness.

Draco dropped a kiss to Harry’s shoulder before pulling the comforter even more securely around them and snuggling that much deeper into Harry’s side. Harry was almost fully asleep before Draco replied.

“Goodnight Harry.”

The next morning when Harry woke he was unsurprised to find himself in the bed alone. Draco was an early riser on the best of days and they hadn’t actually talked about the implications of anything that happened last night. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. He would have loved to wake up with an armful of Draco, morning hardness pressed into his hip. He could think of a few more fun ways the morning could go than waking up alone.

After a lengthy shower and stuffing himself with the eggs and bacon and toast and coffee always ready to go for the volunteers in the great hall Harry made his way out into the courtyard. Nearly everyone was already there and seemed excited. Spotting Luna he made his way over and gave her a one-armed hug.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, eyes skimming the crowd for Draco but not finding him. Harry frowned slightly but turned his attention back to his friend.

“Not sure,” Luna said. “Professor McGonagall said she had an announcement. You’re right on time, I think. She’s coming out now.”

“Good morning everyone,” his professor said with her clipped, authoritative tone he couldn’t help both admiring and somewhat fearing. “I wanted to start by saying thank you so much to all or you, those who have been here since the beginning, those recently joining us, and those who have already left. You have done amazing work restoring the castle. Though it will take a long time before Hogwarts is back to its full glory it will without a doubt be ready for students to come back next week. As of today, the work is officially done. For those of you coming back for your final year here, I look forward to seeing you soon. As for the rest, know that your assistance has been essential to us here and we shall be eternally grateful for the service you have done for us.”

“It is my pleasure to announce that, as of this morning, repairs on the castle have been completed to a satisfactory level and we will be ceasing volunteer needs. From here, the staff and I will be working with the Auror department to replace the wards on and within the castle. To do so we will be sending you all home. Thank you again for all of your hard work. There will be a large feast for lunch today before the last train out of Hogsmeade so that you can all celebrate and say goodbye. It shall start in three hours after which you will all be able to catch a carriage to the station. I will see you all soon.”

With McGonagall’s final words everyone cheered and hugged those around them. It had been an emotional summer, everyone facing demons and healing wounds. It was nice to have been able to be involved. It ended up giving him happiness he would have never seen coming.

Still, there was a coil of doubt and worry in his stomach that wouldn’t seem to go away. The feeling grew as he looked around and still couldn’t see Draco. Something was wrong, he just wasn’t sure what.

“Hey Luna,” he said, “have you seen-”

“He’s in the greenhouse,” she said with a knowing smile.

Harry just laughed. “Thanks.”

“Go get your man,” Luna said.

Harry headed off to the greenhouse and, sure enough, he saw the blonde head sticking up among the roses toward the back of the second building. Draco told him once this was his favorite spot they had built. There was a natural fountain built into some rocks like a waterfall, conjured from nothing. Surrounding the rocks were many roses and lilies.

When Harry came up Draco didn’t even glance at him, just scooted a bit on the bench to give Harry room.

“In the corner there, next to the waterfall, are my favorite roses,” Draco told him, eyes misty and distant. “My mother donated them, actually. Sometime in the twelfth or thirteenth century, my family created them. The petals stay that soft lavender shade year-round, impervious to frost or heat. The edges of the petals are enchanted to look metallic silver but if you were to touch them you would see they are pliant and silky smooth. There are no other roses like them in the world. When Mother found out I was helping with the repairs to the greenhouse she sent a sample for Neville to grow here.”

“They’re beautiful,” Harry said. And they truly were. The silver edges glinted in the morning sun sending a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls around them, blinking and fading in and out of sight as a breeze from the open windows fluttered the petals. Now and then the lights would bounce off Draco’s face and Harry was mesmerized.

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Draco said. “I think I had been drinking a bit too much whiskey and got carried away. I mean, it’s not to say that I didn’t want it or didn’t have a good time. You were amazing, unsurprisingly. The world has yet to find something the great Harry Potter isn’t good at. I simply mean it doesn’t have to mean anything, Just a couple of horny guys having some fun, yeah?”

Harry furrowed his brow. Was that all it was? A couple of guys having some fun? Suddenly he wasn’t sure. When he woke this morning he had been so certain it had meant something real. But it was so easy to get infatuation and lust confused with real feelings, especially since it was Harry’s first time with a guy. So he simply nodded.

“I guess so,” Harry said, not sure at all.

For a moment he could have sworn he saw a bit of hurt cross Draco’s eyes but then he blinked and it was gone. Draco smiled in relief.

“Thank Merlin for that,” he said. “I was so worried I had gone and buggered our friendship up. That’s the last thing I want. We finally become friends and then I let a little horniness ruin it.”

Harry laughed but there was no humor in it. He suddenly felt hollow. “Yeah,friends’ he said instead of voicing any of this. 

“Shall we go get that feast everyone’s so excited about?” Draco asked, standing and holding out a hand for Harry.

Harry took it and stood. They were so close Harry could have kissed him again. He found he truly wanted to. But Draco’s voice saying friends kept echoing through his head. He took a step back instead.

“Absolutely.”

The two made their way back to the great hall, not talking, both lost in their own heads. When they got there they separated, Harry to join Pansy and Blaise who had come up last week and Harry to Ron and Hermione who had shown up at some point this morning.

He let himself get invested in the conversation his two best friends were having. She had fixed her parents. They were coming back for eighth year too. The renovations looked great. He heard it all and knew he was responding appropriately but his head just wasn’t there.

The truth was all he could think about was that Draco had said it didn’t mean anything. That night, long after he had said his goodbyes to everyone, long after the train took them all back to King’s Cross, long after Molly fussed over him and made sure he ate dinner despite the lunch feast, long after the burrow quieted down for the evening, Harry came to the startling realization of why it bothered him.

The truth was that it hadn’t meant nothing to Harry. The truth was, somewhere between water fights, stargazing, and too many bottles of whiskey Draco had begun to mean a lot more than nothing to Harry.

The truth was, Harry was in love with him. And the truth was, Draco did not love him back.


	3. Autumn

Draco had always liked the period in September when summer melted into fall. The days got shorter, the air held a crispness in the mornings that was just enough to allow for a sweater, and the promise of spiced cider and pumpkin juice at breakfast made going to the great hall just that much more worth it. Being back for what was being called eighth year by the students felt bittersweet because he realized, this would likely be the last time he got to experience am Autumn like this in Scotland.

There was nothing wrong with Autumn when you were in England, exactly. It simply wasn’t the same. The leaves still changed color but it didn’t stretch for miles as it did around Hogwarts. This was especially true in London, where he and his mother now owned a flat. The air was still cooler than the unbearable summers but the natural warmth of a city prevented it from feeling fresh and cold like it did in the Highlands. For the people who lived in the city, it was just life going on as usual as the season changed. There was no inherent magic in the city like there was at school.

He was certain he would miss it.

On one of those crisp mornings in early October Draco woke early, not unlike most mornings lately. Despite being back at school for a month and having slept in this exact tower all summer during the renovations, he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the sensation of the sun pouring on his face from the window near his bed. He had spent the last seven years of his life in a room below a lake where the light filtering through was always a blueish-green and never very bright. Here, in his high tower with a perfect view of the sun rising over the Quidditch pitch, Draco was woken to the early morning rays every day.

The truth was, he kind of liked it. It was easier to chase the demons of his nightmares away when he didn’t wake to a dark room with undulating shadows dancing on the walls, reflecting the murky depths just outside his window. No, sun and light worked much better as a deterrent against the things that plagued him at night.

This particular morning his window was covered in morning condensation, his only clue to how chilly it must be outside. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of getting outside. Pulling on his softest grey cashmere sweater and his favorite crimson scarf he silently headed for the door.

As usual, he was the first awake. Because so few students had returned for eighth year they were lucky enough to only have triple or double rooms. Draco shared with Blaise by request, though the man was rarely in his bed, which meant Draco spent most of his time blessedly alone. They did all share a common room, however, but it was empty at this hour with the sun barely having risen.

Heading out on to the grounds Draco only saw a student here or there, early risers like himself. By the time he made it to the outer edges of the lake, though, it was just him.

This was how he liked to spend his mornings. A few minutes to himself to just breathe, let go of the dreams that clung to his mind like cobwebs, and get himself ready to face the day.

Perhaps he should have been more surprised when, not ten minutes later, he found himself no longer alone. However, as of late, Luna seemed to have an uncanny way of just finding him wherever he was.

“Good morning Draco,” she said, tucking herself in at his side as he stared out at the lake. He didn’t even bother to look over at her, simply allowed himself to be warmed by her ever-present heat. He imagined being near her brought everyone just a bit closer to the sun as she was not afraid to share her light with anyone who needed it.

It made him smile. If his solitude was going to be interrupted by anyone he was glad it was her. “Good morning, Luna. I would ask how you found me but I know you won’t answer me.”

“Hmm,” Luna shrugged before using her wand to start weaving some fallen leaves into a wreath he had no doubt would end up on the eighth year mantle. Honestly, she spent more time there than she did her own house. He startled as he was contemplating this when she finally spoke again several minutes later. “You seem more troubled today than usual, Draco. Your aura is very dark with a lot of murky blues. Is everything alright? Do you need to talk at all?”

Though he wasn’t sure how much he believed in the validity of her claims of reading auras he did have to admit he was more troubled today than he had been. It always alarmed him a bit that she could tell.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he told her. “At the very least nothing that you specifically need to worry about. I’m just a brooder. I get a bit of bad news and it hangs over me like a sodding rain cloud for a month.”

“Sometimes I wish other people got to see this side of you,” Luna said. “You’ve spent so much of your life putting on airs and acting like nothing affected you unless you could gain something from it. But that’s not the real you. You want it to be but it’s not. You feel everything so deeply. If you would let yourself, I bet you could be really, truly happy. What does all this pretending get you?”

“Protection,” Draco said without hesitation. “Without the confidence, without the arrogance, they would all tear me apart. Especially now.”

“Not all of us,” Luna said. “Not me or Neville or Dean or Seamus. We got to see the real you this summer. Even Ginny and Justin saw the real you. And we liked who we saw.”

“Enough other people are waiting for me to fail, to put one foot out of line. I can’t let my guard down, not now. Maybe when I’m done with school I’ll run off to France or America or something. People don’t know me there. I can be whoever I want to be. I can be more than a Malfoy somewhere else.”

“You can be more than a Malfoy here too. You are more than a Malfoy.”

Draco snorted. “Let’s just go get some breakfast, shall we?”

Luna smiled sadly and stood, taking Draco’s arm when he offered it with a small nod. They walked back to the front doors in silence. Luna didn’t need to know why Draco was struggling.

The truth was, he had gotten some bad news. His mother had written the night before and he was still trying to process all of it. She told him that her request to have some of their vault funds released had been denied for a third time, pending completion of her house arrest and his probation. While she did still have access to the small bit of funds from her Black lineage anything tied to the name Malfoy was unavailable. This meant she had enough for the London flat, food, and not much else. While he wasn’t expecting to live the kind of lavish life he had grown up with it would be nice if she could have just a bit more comfort in her life. He hated to imagine she was suffering as a result of his father’s bad choices. 

By tacit agreement, the entire school had mostly abandoned the rigidity of the seating arrangements for meals on a daily basis. With the exception of feasts or announcements, and while many still favor their housemates, it was not uncommon to see intermixed groups dotted throughout the great hall during meal times. Where before you walked in and saw a well-organized mass of color-coordinated people now it was like looking at an artist's canvas, blue mixed with red mixed with yellow mixed with green. Everyone looked comfortable and happy. In just a few months the people had come together like never before.

The small exception to this was the eighth years. While houses were fully ignored they seemed to congregate together. It was hard to not feel different, outside somehow. None of them should be in this school anymore. Hell, a lot of them probably shouldn’t even be alive. Though they were students still they weren’t treated the same or seen the same as other students. They were all allowed to come and go from campus nearly as they pleased, curfew restrictions were barely enforced, and they all felt just a bit removed from the average Hogwarts student.

Though Draco supposed, in many ways they really were.

There were drawbacks and advantages to this isolation and separation from the group. Though he did crave his independence, and this group rarely left anyone alone, he did find himself in a very different mindset than in years prior. One major change, he had become much closer to those in his year from other houses he never would have talked to before. These breakdowns in social barriers were obvious throughout his ragtag group of eighth-year students. it seems to have been true for everyone.

On one end of the table sat Pansy, Hermione, and Hannah Abbot sat talking about a group project they were working on for ancient runes. They all roomed together and somehow had become true friends. The other end of the table saw Blaise, Ron, Seamus, and Justin Finch-Fletchley engaged in a conversation about what seemed to be the implications of next seasons Quidditch trades. Terry Boot and Millicent Bulstrode were flirting across the table, Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown were talking about Care of Magical Creatures with Ernie Macmillan, and even Theodore Nott was having a civil conversation with Padma Patil about where he was planning to move after school was over. 

Of course, in the middle of all of it was Harry. Draco wasn’t delusional enough to believe he would ever see the man as Potter again, no matter what he may say out loud. The truth was, after this summer, the person who was Potter in his mind had drifted away somewhere between their confessions outside the room of requirement and learning each other’s bodies on the quidditch pitch, the boy legend had transformed into the real man he now knew. He had been replaced with a funny, interesting, self-deprecating, hurricane of a man named Harry. At every meal, he flitted effortlessly between the groups, even the ones Draco was in. Somehow, despite what had happened between them, Harry still seemed mostly comfortable around Draco which was a kindness he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Not that it was all that surprising. Even now, the man had the ability to fit in anywhere. Sure, he had saved the world multiple times and been famous since he was born. That wasn’t the point, though. Harry was just good at this. Talking to people. Making friends. Making people care about him. He was a magnet and other people were just bits of scrap metal, destined to be pulled in and difficult to pull away.

So, like the scrap metal Draco knew he was, he allowed himself to get pulled in, again and again. However, he always made sure to remember that, in the end, he would have to let go. For everyone’s sake.

“Good morning,” Draco said, sitting in the empty spot on the bench across from Harry and beginning to pile his plate with a few things.

Harry beamed at him as he sat. “Morning,” he said, passing Draco a coffee made exactly how he liked it. Draco blushed.

“It’s really starting to feel like fall out there,” Draco said as he sipped his coffee gently. “Some of the leaves on the ground are even starting to look a little frosty in the mornings.”

Harry laughed. Draco ignored the way the sound made his skin grow warm and his heart speed up.

“You are such a bloody morning person,” Harry said. “I, personally, am much happier enjoying the frosty mornings under my oversized quilt or in front of the common room fire with a cup of hot cider, thank you very much.”

“I think that likely has less to do with you not being a morning person and more with you being a lazy sod.”

“Bite me,” Harry deadpanned.

“Only if you ask nicely,” Draco quipped back and instantly felt his face heat. It was worth it, though, to see the matching scarlet on Harry’s cheeks.

The moment didn’t last long, however, as Ginny came over and planted herself firmly beside Draco, shoving between himself and Pansy. As much as he may have begun to respect the she weasel over the summer, especially when she told him she was very gay and very not into Harry, he still didn’t feel like dealing with her first thing in the morning. Draco groaned as she slung an arm over both he and Pansy.

“Good morning old people,” Ginny said with a grin. “And how are we feeling today?”

Pansy gave a small and ineffective glare at Ginny. “Please remove yourself from my presence. No one has any right to be this chipper this early in the morning.”

“Aw,” Ginny said, pulling Pansy a bit tighter, “did someone stay up too late last night? Too much partying? Too much studying?” Too much sex?”

Pansy turned scarlet and looked away. Draco couldn’t help but smirk. As it turned out, Draco and Harry weren’t the only ones breaking down barriers between houses last summer. Apparently, those two were just better at it.

“Like you wouldn’t know,” Draco said, fully aware why Pansy was so tired this morning, even if the rest of the table wasn’t.

Ginny just shot him a wolfish grin. “My Draco,” she said with a hand to her chest, “I can’t imagine whatever you could mean.”

“What are you even doing here,” Pansy quipped back. “Don’t you have a table of toddlers to go back and entertain.”

“But then that would mean I’d have to leave you and this is much more fun.”

“Can you guys please remove your weird brand of flirting from my presence?” Draco told them, peeling Ginny’s arm from his shoulder causing her to laugh loudly beside him and Pansy’s glare to turn just a bit fond.

“As entertaining as this is,” Hermione said from her end of the table with an eye roll and a smile, “Draco and I have alchemy to get to and I don’t feel like being late. You ready?”

“Bossy,” Draco told her but gathered his books anyways. As he left the table he caught Harry’s eyes again. The man was smiling at him, just a bit unguarded, and Draco wanted to melt into the floor.

He strengthened his resolved. Smiling slightly he turned away and toward Hermione. “Let’s go.”

As they walked away he felt the magnetic bond pull tight until it broke. He let Harry go again, like he did every day. Attach, disconnect, attach, disconnect. Every damn day. It would only last until their eyes met again but, at least for a little while, he could let himself breathe. Maybe one day it wouldn’t hurt so much to force themselves apart. It was for the best, he reminded himself again. They weren’t friends, couldn’t be. The distance was for the best. But, even if it was for the best, that didn’t make it hurt any less.

As they walked to class Hermione kept shooting him knowing glances. He knew he was painfully obvious about his feelings, at least to everyone but Harry who hadn’t gotten any more observant in the last decade. Despite that, though, no one had tried to talk to him about it except Pansy and Luna. He had a feeling Hermione was going to be next. Sod all the well-meaning women in his life.

One of the strangest things that happened when they got to school was his friendship with Hermione.

It had started seemingly out of mere convenience. They offered optional electives to seventh and eigth years who were ahead in their NEWT studies enough for them to have space in their schedules to take on more classes. It was unsurprising that, even with missing a year of school, Hermione had plenty of time for these optional classes. Because Draco had been at school for some of the previous school year and had advanced beyond the school curriculum, he had actually been able to test out of a couple of classes, namely History of Magic, Potions, and Defence. So when they decided to open up a class on alchemy, taught by one of Nicholas Flammel’s descendants, he jumped at the class. Unsurprisingly, so did Hermione.

More surprising, however, was when she sat beside him in class on the first day, effectively declaring them as partners for the duration of the school year. It had been awkward at first. They were overly polite and courteous. She would apologize for bumping him with her elbow, he would let her walk out before him. It was all perfectly pleasant and it made Draco want to tear his hair out.

After a couple of weeks of this, however, the tension finally snapped. To be fair, he was surprised that it had taken this long. All it took was some firewhiskey and a bit of Gryffindor courage one night when all of the eigth years decided to have a bit of a get together in their common room. 

“Draco,” Pansy said beside him. She had been lounging on the couch with her legs in his lap, using her wand to make an owl feather float up and down, up and down, up and down for the last hour. He wasn’t quite drunk enough to find it interesting but just drunk enough to not care enough to move.

“Pansy,” Draco said back when she didn’t say anything else for a long moment. Blaise snickered beside them. Draco wasn’t sure what was funny and gave his friend a look. Blaise simply snickered again and waved him off.

“I know it’s likely none of my business but why are you suddenly partners with Granger? I mean, I know the war is over and we are all trying to push past all of the unpleasantness but it seems rather a bold move if you ask me.”

“Well,” Draco started, shoving her legs to the floor and watching the owl feather fall to the floor as she stuck her tongue out at him. “You aren’t wrong about it being none of your business but that’s never stopped you before so why would I expect it to now? The truth is I have no idea why we’re partners. She sat down next to me on the first day without asking or saying anything and just kind of never left. It’s all a bit odd, honestly.”

“Do you think she was looking for something? An apology or whatever.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.” Draco pondered this as he took

“Well have you?”

“Have I what?”

Pansy rolled her eyes in the way only she could, with an impressive balance between seeming completely dramatic and simultaneously bored with whoever was on the other end of it. “Apologized, of course. You were a prick to her for years and she’s suddenly choosing to forgive you for some reason. It might be worth taking some of your bullshit back.”

Draco startled a bit. How had it never occurred to him that he should apologize? He had spent so much of his time since the war wallowing in his regrets he didn’t think about the fact that it wasn’t too late to start making amends to them. “Shit,” he said, “you’re right. Dammit, I should have been apologizing for the shit I did this whole time.”

“I’m always right darling.”

“Where did you get such a good idea, anyway?”

Suddenly her face fell a bit and her eyes looked sad. Draco worried she might cry but her voice remained strong as she replied. “It’s because it’s what I’ve been doing.”

Draco put a hand on her shoulder. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate anything more than that so he stayed quiet. A moment or two passed before the feeling dissipated.

“Ok,” Draco said, standing suddenly. He wasn’t that drunk. He could do this. “I’m going.”

Pansy furrowed her brow. “Now?”

“Might as well,” Draco said. “I have a lot to make up for and if I don’t start now I might never finish. Besides, I’m bloody sick of the awkwardness in alchemy. At least this way everything will be out in the open. Then she can either hate me and choose a new partner or we can start to be, well maybe not friends but something. I don’t know. Whatever. I’m going.”

“Good luck,” Blaise said, finally seeming to remember they were there.

With that, he set off in search of Granger. It didn’t take long to find her. The quarters they had were larger than was strictly necessary for their uses. The common areas were spread over three floors with a large kitchen on one, a large open space with ample seating and desks and bookshelves on the next, and a more traditional sitting room with couches and a large hearth on the lowest floor. He snorted when he realized she was in the room with all the books. While everyone else was drinking and pairing up she was studying.

“What are you doing in here?” Draco asked, pulling up a chair beside her.

She flushed but looked at him with defiant eyes. “If you must know,” she said with a single raised eyebrow, not at all ashamed, “it’s easier to get my work done when everyone else is doing whatever you all do down there. There are usually so many people here in the evenings and no one is quiet. I usually end up joining the party eventually but I take advantage of the lack of distractions when I can.”

“That seems as depressing as it is practical,” Draco said. “I think I may have to steal your idea, actually. Don’t worry though, I know how to be quiet.”

Granger gave him a long look before speaking. “What are you doing here, Malfoy.”

With her words, his stomach dropped and he remembered why he had come. It was now or never.

“Believe it or not,” he said, “I came to apologize.”

She gave him an odd look. “For what?”

Draco laughed humorlessly. “Merlin, so many things.”

“You don’t need-”

“Yes I do,” he said, cutting her off. “Please, Granger, just- I need to do this. Partially for you but also for me.”

She gave him a small smile. “Alright,” she said, setting her quill away and giving him her full attention.”

“There are a lot of people I need to make amends with. I should have likely started this long before now but I was so caught up in my own shame and my own grief that I forgot it isn’t about me. It’s about the people I hurt or who got hurt indirectly by my actions. I know that nothing I say can change any of what happened but I hope it can act as a start.”

“Hermione, the way I’ve treated you over the years is unacceptable. Growing up I was taught to view people in certain ways and as a result, I became a cruel child. I’m not blaming my parents exactly, each person makes their own choices, but it is why I saw the world the way I did. By the time I grew up a bit and realized for myself the way the world actually works it was very nearly too late.”

“I was one of the lucky ones, Merlin knows why. Not everyone got a second chance. But I did and I’m here now to try to make the most of it. You are a brilliant witch, a kind friend, and just an all-around good person. I think a part of me always knew that and it was part of why I hated you. Jealousy is a powerful motivator. You have no reason to forgive me but I hope your good nature will allow you to anyways. I want to try to make it up to you. Who knows? Maybe we can even learn to be friends. But either way, you need to know that I take back basically everything I’ve said to you before tonight and I hope we can move forward in a more positive light.”

It didn’t take long for her to respond but the few moments of silence are away at him. Of all the people he was cruel to he had undoubtedly been the worst to her.

“Draco,” she said, a small smile on her lips, “I appreciate everything you have said. The truth is, you were cruel and you made my life much harder than it needed to be here at Hogwarts. I was so new to all of this and just wanted to prove myself. You don’t understand how hard it was, how overwhelming and scary. This world was always yours and you made me feel like I didn’t deserve my place in it.”

“I am so sorry,” Draco said, truly ashamed. 

“The thing is, you were just a bully. I learned my worth and your words stopped mattering. Your father was a terrible influence on you. But I think being forced to become a death eater, seeing the murders and torture for yourself, you changed. You got better. You don’t need to ask for my forgiveness because I’ve already given it. If I had any doubts left after you helped us win a damn war they certainly evaporated when you became friends with Harry.”

“You don’t need to go easy on me,” Draco said, although he truly was beginning to feel hope.

Hermione just laughed. “Believe me, that’s not what this is. I’m not saying we should be besties tomorrow. We still have a long way to go. But I sat down next to you in class because I want to change things. I want us all to do better. This is how we start. We just got finished fighting a fucking war, Malfoy. A war that only happened because of prejudice, fear, and hate. Don’t you think it’s time we all break the cycle? Now, go grab your books and quill. I have some things I want to go over from our alchemy assignment this week and I think you can help.”

Draco was shocked but happy and did as he asked. After that, it became a habit for them. When the weekend parties would start they would hole up together and go through their assignments. It was a bit awkward at first but that changed quickly. Sometimes he would bring some of the French chocolates his mother sent sometimes she would bring some bottles of butterbeer. Eventually, they started to talk about things like her parents (Draco was horrified by the entire concept of dentistry) or his childhood (she loved hearing about the crup his mother allowed him to get, much to his father's chagrin). Before they knew it, they were friends.

And Hermione wasn’t the last person he would end up making amends with. Next on the list was Lavender Brown. She cried and hugged him and it was a bit awkward but suddenly she would pass him extra rolls at dinner or ask him questions in herbology. After her came Seamus and Dean, who both laughed and smiled and said he had proved himself over the summer and they were already ok. Most recently was Neville.

Neville was one of the earliest victims of his bullying. While they had come a long way that summer and he already saw them as somewhat friends there had never been any official apology. Neville was grateful for the words, though he too echoed the earlier sentiments. His actions that summer had spoken volumes.

It felt good to work in making things better. He knew not everyone was likely to forgive him. When he sent a letter to Katie Bell she sent back it’s charred remains in what was a very effective way to say fuck off. He had walked into the Three Broomsticks twice to try to talk to Madam Rosmerta but ended up walking right back out when she leveled him with a hard stare.

Even still, he felt better. There was a weight on his shoulders that had begun to lift. He wasn’t sure he was quite at a place where he would say he was happy but he was definitely better than he had been.

The one person he couldn’t seem to bridge the gap with was Harry. Not that Harry hadn’t tried. At the beginning of the year, he constantly sought him out. Sometimes it was a look across a classroom, other times it was a brush of their hands in the hall. They still fought occasionally but it always ended with him insanely aroused and no way to solve it. He knew Harry was still willing but Draco couldn’t give in. The first time was enough of a mistake and he refused to repeat it. He wouldn’t ruin Harry’s life, not after almost being the reason it ended.

So Draco kept his distance and Harry eventually let him. As November rolled in with a wave of cold air and the promise of a snowy season just around the corner, the two of them could not be more distant. And it was killing him.

However, their group of friends became more and more tangled as time went on. Pansy and Ginny were finally official, bringing their friend groups into the same orbit. Blaise and Ron realized they had a shared love of chess, and a mean competitive streak, so their friendship was well underway. Theo and Harry realized they liked the same books, Daphne admitted to Luna she was a huge fan of the quibbler, and Millicent quickly fell in with Dean and Seamus over a love of pranks. With he and Hermione firmly in the friend category now there was no chance at avoidance anymore.

It was that fact alone that finally caused him to crack.

It was the day of the first snow and everyone was in good spirits, even the teachers. As it was a Friday, and as a reward for everyone's hard work, classes were canceled for the day so they could all enjoy the freshly fallen snow. It didn’t take long after the breakfast announcement for students to change into their winter clothes and head out into the frigid weather.

Draco took his time. He changed into a cozy silver sweater to pair with his dragonhide boots and Slytherin scarf. Grabbing his favorite black gloves and pea coat on the way out the door, he looked forward to getting outside. With just a quick trip to the kitchens for a takeaway mug of hot pumpkin juice, he finally made his way outside. 

There was something magical that happened when it snowed. It was like the entire world got softer. Yes there were kids screaming as they lobed enchanted snowballs at each other and there was some kind of chaotic snow angel competition going on but still, it all seemed quieter somehow. He knew that as the months dragged on the cold would get unbearable and everyone would get sick of being damp all the time. Yet, for a little while at least, it made the world seem even more magical than it already was.

When he spotted Harry, headed toward him with a big smile, the magic shrunk down to a single bright spot that was only this man. Draco knew he was done for.

“Hey,” Harry said, “I’m glad you came out. We were just getting a group together to go sledding. You should come.”

He should have said no. He should have continued the walk he planned to take around the great lake to see if it had started to freeze. He absolutely shouldn’t go watch Harry smile and laugh and probably get way to close for either of their good. But that’s not what he said.

“Sure, sounds fun.”

Harry’s beaming smile was nearly worth the unraveling Draco was certain he was about to endure.

And Draco wasn’t wrong about any of it.

On the backside of the castle, there were a number of rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see. They weren’t used for much the majority of the time. Too hilly for flying lessons, too far from the forest for Care of Magical Creatures, not enough usable soil for a garden. It wasn’t unusual to see students out here during the sunny months taking picnics or playing games. But it was best used in the winter when the shade of the castle kept it just cool enough for the snow not to melt until late in the day and the gently rolling landscape created a perfect environment for sledding. There weren’t many trees in this area and the line of sight stretched to the horizon. It was the perfect spot.

By the time they arrived there were several people already there. Pansy and Ginny were eating pastries they smuggled out of the castle on a blanket to the side, Luna was helping Neville with what looked like it was going to be a very odd snowman, and Hermione and Ron were organizing groups for toboggan races. Despite his reservations and fears for what this would do to his resolve, he was glad Harry dragged him out here.

“Hey guys,” Hermione said as they sent the most recent group of racers down the hill, “I’m glad Harry found you. Dean and Seamus are at the bottom of the hill with cocoa and firewhiskey, the races are two to a sled, and Luna has offered to conjure up accessories for anyone to decorate their snowmen. Though I might recommend doing your own. When Lavender asked for a top hat the one that she made was purple with white flowers and mistletoe coming out of its top.”

Harry laughed and Draco's stomach constricted. He needed an escape.

“Where’s Blaise?” Draco asked, looking around for his friend in an obvious attempt at escape.

“He’s sweet-talking some house-elves into packing a bunch of picnic baskets. I think he plans to make some of the younger students carry them,” Ron said with a chuckle, winding his arm around Hermione’s waist.

“Oh,” Hermione said, glancing behind Draco, “there he is. With first years and baskets in tow.”

When Draco turned he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Like Hermione had said, Blaise was walking toward them with a gaggle of younger kids following him each with a large basket. The image was one Draco was unlikely to ever forget.

“I come bearing goods!” Blaise said, his deep baritone carrying over the snow. “There’s cheese and crackers, sandwiches, some soups and a few salads, hot cider and pumpkin juice, and a few thermoses of butterbeer. And for the adults, there is even some elvish wine, courtesy of my mother's newest husband. Please enjoy!”

With a wave of his wand, everything was spread over the many blankets he had also somehow, procured. All the first and second years looked at him with awe and Draco snorted. He always was a showoff. Still, it was impressive.

When Draco chanced a glance at Harry their eyes met with a knowing smirk. During the summer they had talked more than once about Blaise. He had a bit of veela blood but swore that’s not how he got his way. He always said it was his magical prowess and charm. They both shared a quiet laugh and it made Draco’s heart want to explode.

“Come on,” Harry said, “let’s steal a bottle of that wine before everyone drinks it all.”

Again, Draco knew he should say no. But the truth was he was tired. He liked spending time with Harry, liked drinking with him and swapping stories. So he found himself following as Harry swiped a bottle from the basket and gestured his head toward a rock foundation a bit away.

With a wave of Harry’s hand, the snow cleared and a small warming charm turned the area into their oasis from the cold. No one was paying them much attention so it was just the two of them.

“You and your damn wandless magic,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Do you even have to think about it?”

Harry flushed, always reluctant to accept praise. “It’s just little things. Drying charms, heating charms, summoning, basic stuff.”

“It’s still impressive,” Draco said, leveling Harry with a look to stop any attempts at disagreeing.

“Thanks,” Harry replied.

They lapsed into silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They sat there, passing the bottle back and forth, watching their friends. Now and then they would talk about something, whether it was a quidditch match they disagreed on or a class assignment he was struggling with. It never felt forced or like they were just filling the silence. It may not have held the weight of the conversations of the summer but it felt nice. Just two blokes, taking the piss out of their friends, talking about nothing, and drinking some wine that was just a bit too sweet and went straight to his head.

He was happy and he couldn’t remember why that was a bad thing.

“So what do you say, Draco?” Harry asked when the wine was nearly gone and the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. The look in his eyes was a dangerous one but the wine made Draco want to give in.

So he did. “What do I say to what?” Draco asked with a last deep swig on the wine bottle.

Harry grinned, downing the rest of the wine himself. “I need a racing partner if we are gonna get to the spiked cocoa, especially now that the wine’s gone. So what do you say?”

With that, Harry held his hand out to help Draco up. A beat passed before Draco reached out to meet Harry halfway. “What the hell, why not?”

This time, Harry’s beaming smile was definitely worth it.

The two made their way over to the slopes just as Ron and Hermione were getting ready to race against Ginny and Pansy.

“Looks like we’ve got a late entry,” Ginny said with a smirk as she settled in behind her girlfriend.

“Think you stand a chance, mate?” Ron asked with a toothy grin and a flushed face. Clearly, he and Harry weren’t the only ones indulging in a bit of day drinking.

“Oh please,” Harry said as he grabbed a sled from the nearby rack, “speed is what I do. I wasn’t made the youngest seeker in a century because of my vast experience on a broom.”

“We’ll see, Harry,” Hermione said with a wink.

“Yeah, Potter,” Pansy said with a laugh, “you’re not in the air anymore.”

“Alright you lot,” Neville said as he came up to launch them off, “you know how this works. I will cast Impedimenta on your sleds. From there I will count to three and release it. When I do you will be able to speed down the mountain. Your goal will be the clearing on the lower right of this hill. And for Merlin’s sake try to avoid the trees on the left. Justin already made that mistake with Hannah. Luckily Luna is good with episky. So is everyone ready?”

Suddenly, Draco realized he was nervous. It wasn’t about the sledding or the hill or the bloody trees. Only a Hufflepuff would forget how to steer. No, it was the realization that, for at least the next few minutes, he would be pressed up against the length of Harry with no way to escape. His cock twitched a bit at the implication but he did his best to temper it back down.

“Do you want the front?” Harry asked quietly right by Draco’s ear. “I’d prefer to be behind you. It makes it easier for me to keep control of things.”

Draco shivered and couldn’t do anything more than nod. As they got situated Harry wrapped his strong thighs around Draco and pressed them close together. He was fully aware that this was how they would have to do things but it didn’t make it any easier. When Draco adjusted slightly his back pressed that much closer to Harry, who let out a near-silent groan that made Draco’s breath catch. If the hardness beginning to press against Draco was any indication, the effect was mutual.

Draco found he was deeply torn between wanting more and wanting to run away. He was beginning to think this was a very bad idea.

“Alright,” Neville began, though Draco could barely pay attention, “push on up to the edge of my spell and get ready to launch.”

“You ready Draco?” Harry whispered in his ear, pressing them impossibly closer.

“Ok, one,” Neville said.

“Not even close” Draco told Harry.

“Two.”

“Good,” Harry said in a voice full of filthy promises.

“Three!”

And then they were off and Draco felt like he was flying. It had been years since he did something this frivolous and fun. The fact that he was doing it with Harry made it all the better.

As they sped across the small peaks and valleys that littered their way to the finish line, he found he released almost all of his earlier tension. Though he would surely pay for it tomorrow, now he let himself indulge in this little bit of pleasure.

Between the wind in his hair, the feel of Harry’s body pressed up against his, and the sound of their combined laughter Draco realized he had not been this happy is a very long time.

At the bottom of the hill, they crossed the finish line just a sleds length in front of Ginny and Pansy. Hermione and Ron had wiped out halfway down the hill and were now trudging, arm in arm, in hysterical laughter toward the group on foot.

Harry was a bit out of breath and Draco was still laughing when they inevitably crashed into a snowbank at the end. When he and Harry finally made eye contact they were just inches apart. Harry’s eyes were bright and open, as happy as could be, and the sight made Draco’s breath catch in his throat as the realization hit him.

He was in love with Harry Potter.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the look of confusion on Harry’s face, and he made his way over to the rest of the group.

“Great game!” Pansy said, shaking him and Harry’s hands before kissing Ginny on the cheek.

“Not you though, big brother,” Ginny said as the other two finally caught up. “That was a little sad if I’m being honest.”

“Piss off,” Ron said, shoving his sister.

“Come on,” Hermione said, dropping her sled in the box that would transport it back to the top for the next group of riders. “Let’s get some hot chocolate.”

So they all made their way over to where Seamus was pouring his and Dean’s perfectly curated recipe. Just sweet enough with a bit of cinnamon kick from the fire whiskey. It wouldn’t get you sloshed but it would certainly warm you up.

Draco made it there first and downed half the almost too hot liquid in one go. Not that he needed the warming because he felt like he had just been doused in flames.

“Are you alright, Draco? Harry asked, with a hand to his lower back.

Draco put on the more realistic smile he was capable of. “I’m great. I was just a bit thirsty and winded from that run. We were brilliant, naturally.”

Harry cocked his head but smiled a bit. “Yeah,” he said, drawing the word out as if unsure it was quite what he meant to say. He shook his head and then grabbed another cup of cocoa for himself.

“I’m glad we’re friends again,” Draco blurted before he could stop himself.

“Are we?” Harry asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Friends that is.”

Draco smiled sadly. “I’d like to be.”

He knew he was going to regret it. There was no way that this ended in anything but pain for them both. But he had tried staying away from Harry, tried getting him out of his system with distance, and all it had done was make his feelings that much stronger. So maybe it was the combination of wine and whiskey, maybe it was a day of innocent childhood fun that they had nearly been robbed of less than a year ago, and maybe it was the high Harry’s proximity always gave him. All Draco knew was that he didn’t want to be without Harry in his life anymore. He could never have him the way he wanted him so this would have to be enough.

It took a moment but eventually, Harry smiled. “I’d like that too.”

When he held his hand out to Draco to shake there was no hesitation Only the relief of eight years of feeling rejected washing out of him with the act of a single handshake.

“Come on,” Harry said. “I don’t know about you but I’m ready to head back to the castle. I’m cold and wet and tired and need some real food in me. Rumor has it there’s supposed to be quite the feast tonight.”

Draco smiled back and nodded. “Sounds good to me. I could go for something other than bloody bread and cheese.”

The two began their trek back to the castle and settled into easy conversation. As usual, everything was easy with Harry. They never struggled with topics or awkward pauses. They flowed right into sync with each other again as if it had never stopped.

Yeah, Draco was happy with this. This would be enough. Talking about Quidditch and Harry’s student-teacher role in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Draco’s new friendship with Hermione and anything else that came to mind was easy. It felt right. He could love Harry and be his friend. At least it couldn’t be any worse than not having him at all.

As Harry had predicted, by the time everyone had changed out of their wet snow gear and gotten into the great hall for dinner the place was full of towering platters of amazing food. There were sausage rolls and shepherd's pie, lamb chops and Yorkshire pudding. There were roast beef and mashed potatoes and turkey legs and corn on the cob. Draco couldn’t wait to dig in.

It seemed his whole makeshift house felt the same. Everyone was passing plates around, chatting happily about upcoming hols. Some people were already talking about what was coming for dessert and everyone was passing around the hot cider and pumpkin juice to fight the last of the chill.

But the best part for Draco was sitting with Harry. He couldn’t help but watch him, just a little, now that it felt like he could. He seemed happier today, lighter. Maybe a day out in the snow was what they all needed.

When he finally looked away he noticed Hermione watching him with a smile and he knew he had been caught.

“I’m glad you two are friends again,” she said to him, and miraculously left it at that. He suspected that would hardly be the last he heard of this, though. But he would take it for now.

As the plates cleared and they readied themselves for the dessert course, Headmistress McGonagall got up to the podium and a hush came over the crowd.

“Thank you,” she began. “I want to start by saying I hope you are enjoying your term back so far. I know Christmas is just around the corner and before you know it another year will have been completed. For many of you, this is to be your last as a student here with us. I’m sure it is a bittersweet feeling, leaving Hogwarts behind. But fear not, you will get to face a great many new adventures once outside of these walls. Still, we do want to recognize that which is ending so the professors and I have come to the decision to hold a ball.”

At this, the hall erupted in whispers. You could see some people get excited at the prospect while others were groaning. Draco, for his part, was excited. The Yule Ball in fourth year had been a great time and it was sure to be again. When everyone quieted again the Headmistress continued.

“It will be the last week of school, just after everyone as finished exams. There will be a great feast and a band with lots of dancing. Some past students will also be in attendance to come to see their friends. This ball will serve as a sort of send-off for those leaving as well as a chance to simply celebrate how far everyone has come. As we get closer I will give you all more information but I wanted to inform you now so you could begin to prepare. Now, I think it’s time for dessert.”

Dessert came up and looked amazing but no one seemed to be able to focus. All anyone could talk about was the dance.

He already knew that he knew there would be a fantasy played on repeat in his mind of dancing with Harry. He could imagine them both in their dress robes, hands clasped together and faces inches apart, swaying to something by Celestina Warbeck. He could imagine The Weird Sisters playing a faster beat as he and Harry jumped around, smiles wide on both their faces. Perhaps an orchestra would play as he held Harry’s hand in the garden and kissed him under the moonlight, like how they did during the summer.

They were friends, that was true, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t daydream.

Despite himself, Draco chanced a quick look at the other man and was surprised to find him frowning. Ron was talking to him about something that sounded suspiciously like getting a doover for the Yule Ball but it was clear Harry wasn’t listening. He had a small frown on his face as he picked at his treacle tart and his head thoughts seemed far away.

Draco didn’t know what was wrong but reached a hand out anyways to put on his knee. “You ok?” He asked quietly.

Harry gave a small smile. “Yeah, fine, just a bit of a headache. I’m going to head up, actually.”

And without a backward glance, Harry left, leaving behind a very bewildered looking Ron and a worried Draco.

He may not know what was wrong but he was certainly going to find out.


	4. Winter

The surprising part about being friends with Draco Malfoy again was how easy it all was. Not even a year ago they were on opposite sides of a war and now they sat together at lunch. Draco studied with Hermione and played chess with Ron. He helped refine the prank ideas Dean and Seamus came up with and took walks with Luna. Neville went to Draco with questions about the rare breeds of plants at Malfoy Manor. He and Hannah Abbot discussed the possibility of the healer schools they were both applying to after Hogwarts. Draco had folded himself right into every aspect of his life and it all just fit.

It wasn’t one-sided, either. Somehow he had collected his own bunch of Slytherin friends he never saw coming. Now that Draco was advanced out of potions he had somehow ended up partnered with Theodore Nott who, as it turned out, was a surprisingly effective teacher. Millicent Bulstrode would often come to talk with them all about quidditch and seemed to generally have the same opinions as Harry in most debates. Though Goyle wasn’t much of a talker, he was always willing to work out in the weight room behind the quidditch pitch. And, most surprising of them all, was his friendship with Pansy.

When she and Ginny had first started being interested in one another the Slytherin had approached him about it. She had started with an apology for the events of the war which he had happily forgiven her for. From there, she explained her feelings for Ginny but that if they were still a thing she didn’t want to step on any toes. When he told her that they were both a bit bent and only friends Pansy had actually hugged him. The two girls were together the next day, sitting with Harry at breakfast and talking about their Hogsmeade plans, and suddenly he had collected Pansy as well.

For all the pain and suffering Voldemort had brought on their heads, the one saving grace of it all was the unity that had finally settled over Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t sure, yet, what the world would look like outside of this castle but he knew that, in here at least, things were getting better.

However, it wasn’t always easy to be friends with Draco. He would be lying if he said he didn’t take advantage of it a bit. When they say together at meals they were close enough that their thighs were flush together and their arms would brush. On several more sledding trips, he always claimed Draco as his partner just to feel the man in his arms. Not that Draco seemed to mind, which just made it all the more confusing.

Harry was letting his walls down again, despite what happened before. There was a good chance he would get his heart broken again, but when Draco smiled at him with a softness he didn’t have for anyone else Harry had a hard time remembering why that was a bad thing.

One particularly cold morning when Draco came back inside from his daily morning walk he shook the snow off his clothes and right on to Harry’s head at breakfast.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said with a rapid drying charm and a healthy dose of annoyance, “you’re going to make me freeze to death. Why didn’t you just dry off outside?”

“Because it’s much more fun to get you all wet?” Draco said with a faux innocent smile.

The look and the words went straight to Harry’s cock. “But what about what I want? What if I don’t think it’s fun?”

“Are you implying that I don’t know what you find fun?” Draco said with a single raised eyebrow as he peeled off his coat. He was wearing an emerald sweater and black slacks, all perfectly fitted to him.

Harry could barely swallow.

Luckily he was saved from trying to come up with an answer by the arrival of his friends.

“Oh I’m so glad there are still rashers,” Ron said, plopping down on Harry’s other side and effectively breaking the tension so often in the air between them lately.

“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione said, not even looking up from the book in her hands, “I don’t understand how you don’t weigh a thousand stone at this point. Do you ever stop eating or talking about food?”

“Oi,” Ron said “I’m a growing boy. I need sustenance.”

“Well if you grow much more you’re going to need new robes when you split your seams,” Ginny said, sitting across from them with Pansy and Blaise by her side.

“Something tells me that would be for the best,” Draco said with a grin as Ron flipped them all the bird.

From there the conversation moved on to talks of Christmas plans or discussing the upcoming exams. Everything was perfectly natural between them all and no one noticed that Harry didn’t contribute much. No one but Draco.

“Talk later?” Draco asked under his breath.

“I’m alright,” Harry replied.

“Ok,” Draco said, sounding skeptical. “Even still, do you want to walk around the lake later. It’s a little cold but otherwise, it’s a gorgeous day.”

Harry smiled at his friend. “I would love that.”

It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t really the truth either. The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Draco had said and the implications of it. Despite what the man had said over the summer, Harry knew he wasn’t the only one who felt something.

The two had always been drawn together. Even as enemies they sought each other out. Nothing had changed in that regard. The difference was their once vitriolic barbs had become suggestive flirtations and the tension between them was never closer to snapping now that Harry knew what the other man looked like naked. He was falling apart and he knew it.

Despite Harry’s internal struggles, he still couldn’t help but be happy. Not just with the closeness he and Draco had found but with what their friendship meant for the people around them. Hermione told him one night after a couple of glasses of wine that because he and Draco now could get along everyone else used it as permission to let their prejudices die too. After all, if the biggest of rivals could get along then why couldn’t everyone else?

So they did go for their walk around the lake, not just that day but most days where it wasn’t snowing. And they talked all the time, sharing his refilling flask in front of the common room fire at night or in the halls between classes. Sometimes it was about the nightmares Harry still had or the fact that Draco still struggled to fall asleep. Sometimes it was about some gossip that Draco had overheard or an interesting story Charlie or George or Bill had owled Harry that week. They ate meals together, they played pickup games of quidditch with their friends, and they rarely found themselves apart.

And if it was killing Harry, just a little bit, well he could deal with that.

As winter's chill overtook the castle and people started spending more time indoors, Harry couldn’t help looking around the common room in amazement at how far they had come.

It was one night in early December as hols loomed right around the corner, Harry sat in their almost too warm common room filled with an assortment of people and smiled. As he looked around at his hodgepodge group of friends he couldn’t help the stupid grin that stretched across his face.

“What’s with the goofy grin, Potter?” Blaise asked, plopping down on the couch beside him, yet another new friend resulting from the final dissolution of he and Draco’s animosity.

“Look at this,” Harry said, gesturing to the people around them. “Did you ever imagine we could get here? Everyone happy and so many having survived and us all getting along?”

“If I’m being honest I’m not sure,” Blaise replied, surveying the room. “It’s hard, when you’re young, to see past the prejudices you are told are truths. That Slytherins are all evil. That blood needs to be pure. Everyone has these ideas on friendship and love. Sometimes it takes something as dramatic as a war to get people to shift their perspective.”

“Exactly,” Harry said. “Look at us, for example. I grew up completely out of the wizarding world. I had no expectations coming into it. But because of a single bad experience and someone telling me that Slytherin was evil I wrote all of you off. I never even had a conversation with you and I assumed you were evil. I didn’t even know you.”

“And I looked at you as being a game hungry, arrogant, sod,” Blaise admitted. “The truth is you are kind and humble just want the best for everyone. You being a lion tainted my view. I do apologize for that.”

“No need,” Harry said, brushing off the other man’s fears. “The truth is we all had a lot of growing to do. And we have. I’m not going to pretend things are perfect and that everyone will always get along. But sitting in this common room where no one is divided by house or blood purity or sexuality is so refreshing.”

Blaise laughed, the sound bold and rich, before throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I’m still going to take the piss out of you for how much of a bloody Hufflepuff you are.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Blaise off him. “Make fun all you want but I know you’re a sentimental bugger just like me.”

“You may be right, but I’ll never say.” With that Blaise got up and made his way to the other side of the room, sitting with Neville and Luna who were admiring a new plant Neville has gotten.

As his eyes made their way to Draco, and they often did, he found the blond already looking at him with a somewhat icy look. Harry shot him a confused smile and the other man warmed a bit before smiling back and going back to his game of exploding snap.

Harry has no idea what that was about but, if Draco’s penchant for dramatics and inability to let things go was any indication, it wouldn’t be long before he found out.

Despite knowing better, Harry watched him for a while. It was impossible not to once his attention wandered that way. There was something in the way the man moved. He was all long lines and fluid motions, grace and poise in everything he did, even sitting on the ground playing a card game. While Harry might move well on a broom he was rather graceless on the ground. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to get him to come apart completely.

Before that train of thought could get derailed too much, he felt the couch dip beside him and forced himself to look away to where Ginny had just sat down.

“You know,” she said, looking out to where Harry’s eyes had just spent what was likely far too long looking, “pining from afar for someone is all well and good but you have a much better chance getting under them if you make a move.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said, willing his cheeks not to get red.

“So you weren’t just staring at a certain pointy blonde imagining dirty scenarios that would make my brother blush?” Funny said with a wolfish grin, finally meeting Harry’s eye.

“As I said, haven’t the foggiest who you’re referring to.”

Ginny gave him a sad smile. “Look, Harry, if you can’t be honest with anyone else you can at least be honest with me. You’re the first person I told I was gay. You’re the first person I told I liked Pansy. Since the beginning you’ve been pretty clear about your feelings for Malfoy so why are you suddenly acting like nothing’s happening?”

Harry sighed and glanced at Draco again. Their eyes met briefly and Draco’s smile made his stomach flip. Maybe talking about it would help.

“Because nothing is happening,” Harry said with a sad smile of his own. “At least not anymore. It did once, over the summer. But we agreed it didn’t mean anything and decided to move on and be friends. It didn’t really work at first but we are getting better at it now. I mean, there’s no way he doesn’t know I have a giant ducking crush on him. And it’s not like I think he’s not interested at least physically. But the truth is he doesn’t want to be with me. So yeah, nothing is happening and I need to start accepting that.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment, looking slowly between the two of them. “Harry,” she began, putting a comforting hand on his knee, “you are probably my best friend. We have been through some hell together, you and I. I don’t know why Draco said what he said but I struggle to believe it’s true. I see the way he looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. I know the look because it’s the same one I had for Pansy before she finally kissed me. It’s longing and desire and the feeling that you will never have what you want.”

“I respect your decision to stay away from him if it’s what he asked for or at the very least implied. But I don’t think you are doing either of you any favors by lying and acting like you don’t feel something. I think you need to sort out exactly how you feel for him and tell him the truth. It’s not fair to either of you if you are in love with him and he isn’t with you and you just ignore it.”

Harry coughed on his drink. “Who said I love him?” He asked, a bit petulantly.

Ginny laughed. “Fine,” she said, holding up her hands, “we don’t have to call it that if you want. But whatever it is you feel it’s significant enough to have an impact on the friendship you are trying to form. Figure out what you feel, Harry, and then tell him the truth. It will be for the best in the end.”

Before Harry could reply, Pansy came and sprawled herself over the pair of them. “If it isn’t two of my favorite people,” she said. “Don’t be offended, Harry dear, but I’m going to sneak my beautiful girlfriend and take advantage of the fact that my room is currently unoccupied.”

“First off, gross,” Harry said as the pair got up to leave, Ginny giggling into her hand. “Second, have fun and use silencing charms for the love of God. Last weekend was enough tmi for a lifetime.”

Ginny rolled her eyes as Pansy pulled her away. “Don’t forget what I said!”

And with that, they were gone and Harry was again alone to contemplate what his friends had told him, both Ginny and Blaise. As he watched Draco he realized it was true.

They had started to get back some of the casual intimacy they had formed over the summer but, as a direct result of it, his feelings that he had tried to bury had come right back out. If he was going to survive being friends with Draco sodding Malfoy he needed to decide exactly what that meant and how to proceed.

But until then, he was going to smoke said Slytherin in exploding and ruin his reign. The feelings could wait until later.

As the days went by, however, Harry didn’t deal with it. In fact, he fully ignored it. He ignored how the brush of Draco’s hand on his when he hands him something made his heart flutter. He ignored how it felt when they shared a secret smile across a room when they knew there was a prank about to happen. He ignored the too long gazes, the jealous flare-ups when Draco was with someone too closely, and the way he did everything he could to stay by Draco’s side.

What he couldn’t ignore, he relieved in the shower or behind bed curtains. The way Draco’s tongue darted across his lips when he wrote an essay led to a night of languid touches until he exploded. When Draco mounted a broom for a pickup quidditch game Harry rutted against the mattress pretending Draco was mounting him. Draco’s mouth on a bottle of butterbeer and his bobbing Adam’s apple as he swallowed made him rub one out in the Hog’s Head’s bathroom just to get some small relief.

Honestly, it was getting ridiculous. But he couldn’t help it. The more he suppressed his feelings the more his lust grew and the more his nights ended with his cock in his hand and Draco’s face in his mind. He could practically hear the man moaning his name, the fantasied had gotten so real.

Ginny was right. He had to deal with this.

“You’re avoiding me,” Draco said at a party the Friday before everyone left for the holidays.

“Am not,” Harry said, swirling his fire whiskey to watch how the amber liquid caught the light from the fire. He couldn’t help but think back on the last time Draco had accused him of the exact same thing.

“You’re drunk,” Draco said, a laugh in his voice as he plopped beside Harry. 

Somehow he had ended up on the floor of the common room, a statue of a winking wizard to his left and the fire not far in front of him. It was just warm enough in this corner that he barely felt the chill winter always brought to the castle but not so warm that he wanted to take off his sweater. Of course, that could have been the four fire whiskeys he had already had.

“You may have a point,” Harry said, looking over at his friend and downing his drink in one go. He immediately filled it again from the bottle he had nicked from the libations table nearly half an hour ago.

Draco laughed and the sound made Harry smile. “About the avoiding bit or the drunk bit?”

Harry closed one eye to see him better and it did help a bit with the doubling effect he was getting in this close of proximity. “Mm, perhaps a bit of both.”

Draco frowned and Harry just resisted the urge to reach and hand up and smooth away the little line that had formed between his eyebrows.

“Did I do something to upset you?” Draco asked and Harry shook his head. “It’s just, I don’t know, I thought things were ok with us. We got close again and then you pulled away. I know I was a bit of a prat at the beginning of the year and I’m honestly sorry about that, but I am trying to do better.”

“No,” Harry said, putting a hand on Draco’s knee, “it isn’t you, I swear. It’s just me, stuck in my own head. Too many thinky thoughts. You, Draco Malfoy, are wonderful and haven’t done a sodding thing wrong. Though, I somewhat suspect that’s a part of the problem.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Draco replied.

“Neither am I,” Harry laughed and leaned back again, halfway supported by the wall and halfway on Draco. “You’re warm. I don’t remember you being warm.”

Draco sucked in a breath and then threaded their fingers together. It felt nice. “If I’m warm you’re a bloody furnace. How many of those have you had?”

Harry looked into his glass and furrowed his brow. “I’m fairly certain this is six but could just as likely be seven.”

“And have you eaten?”

“Stop mother henning me. It’s unbecoming.”

Draco snorted. “I’ve always enjoyed your use of more flowery language when you’re drunk.”

Harry waved a hand in front of his face but didn’t open his eyes. “I think it’s an unintended consequence of spending so much time around you and Hermione and Pansy, who never seems to not be around these days. That’s not a complaint, by the way, just an observation. Surprisingly enough I think I rather like her. Just don’t tell her that.”

Draco had a smile in his voice when he replied. “Don’t worry,” he said, “your secret is safe with me. Besides, I think she rather likes you too, which I certainly didn’t see coming.”

“As seems to be the theme of this year.”

The two sat quietly for a while and Draco still hadn’t let go of his hand. If anything, he began to lean against Harry as much as Harry was against him. For a while they just let the sounds of the party surround them as they passed the whiskey back and forth.

He knew Draco would leave eventually. He knew the hand in his was only there because, despite Draco’s teasing of Harry’s intoxication level, the man himself was also clearly quite pissed. He knew this would get filed under the ever-growing list of things that were definitely happening but never got talked about. Things that suggested a much more than just platonic relationship that neither would acknowledge but was obviously there. And, more than anything, he knew it would hurt when it ended. But Harry was more than willing to accept these little stolen moments of happiness when he could get them. He wanted whatever Draco was ready to give, even if it was never more than holding hands drunkenly in the corner of a pre-holiday party.

Whatever, Harry was going to enjoy it.

Draco’s voice was tight with emotion he was trying to hide when he finally spoke again.

“Harry,” he said, “can I ask you something?”

Harry opened his eyes and found those metallic silver eyes that he couldn’t stop thinking about already staring deeply into his own. “You can ask me anything, Draco.”

Draco bit his lip a bit and blushed. “Do you remember the other day when we were all playing exploding snap? At one point you and Blaise were chatting on the couch and it looked kind of serious. I know it’s none of my business, but I just had to ask, is there something going on between you and Blaise?”

Harry cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what Draco was talking about. It took a minute with the drunk fog in his brain but then it hit him. He and Blaise, sitting and chatting about their friends and how everything had changed. And then he remembered the look in Draco’s eyes when they had met across the room. With all his contemplation of his feelings since then and the conversation with Pansy immediately after he had nearly forgotten until now.

But Draco bringing it up, especially in the way he phrased it, made Harry start thinking. Was Draco jealous?

“Is something going on with me and Blaise?” Harry asked, making sure he was hearing it right.

Draco pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair, a faint pink stain on his cheek. “Never mind,” he said, “I shouldn’t have asked you that. Please forget I said anything.”

Harry took the other man in. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen him so flustered. He tried his best not to like it too much. With a small smile, he grabbed Draco’s hand again. “Draco,” he said, injecting as much sincerity and earnestness into his words as he could, “I don’t want to forget you asked. I was just making sure I heard you properly.”

“It’s none of my business though,” Draco said, scrambling to try to put up the walls that had been tumbling down. In his drunken state, however, he wasn’t doing a very good job. 

“I think it kind of is, actually,” Harry said, running a thumb over Draco’s knuckles. The other man seemed to calm a bit at the motion and subconsciously drifted a bit closer.

“I mean,” Draco said, voice shaky, “if you’re sure.”

“I am,” Harry said, closing the gap between them that much more. “And, for the record, there is absolutely nothing going on between Blaise and I. Just so you know.”

“Yeah?” Draco asked, hope evident in his eyes.

They were so close he could sense the exact point between them where their breaths met. “Yeah. Can I ask you something now?”

“Anything,” Draco said, voice just above a whisper.

“Do you ever think about that night?” Harry said. He didn’t need to clarify. He knew Draco knew what he meant.

Draco swallowed and gripped Harry’s hand even tighter. “Everyday.”

Harry leaned in as did Draco. The moment seemed to stretch forever. He could feel it, he was just a moment away from Draco’s lips on his and the possibility of everything changing.

And then someone came by and knocked over the winking wizard statue and the moment was broken.

“Sorry mates,” Millicent said, barely looking at them as she whipped her wand around and repaired the broken decor. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Suddenly, it was like cold water had been dumped on them both. All the sounds of the raging party around them that had seemed to slip away came back like a roaring ocean. The proximity between them had tripled and Draco had a look of panic on his face. Harry knew what was coming before it happened.

“I have to go,” Draco said, standing suddenly. Harry followed.

“Please don’t,” Harry said, grabbing Draco’s hand, aware he sounded pathetic but he couldn’t help himself. They had been so close.

“You know I have to,” Draco said, letting Harry go and walking away.

Harry watched him leave, as he knew he would, and felt the other man taking his heart with him. He stood there for too long after Draco left and willed himself not to cry.

Finally, when it felt like he could get oxygen in his lungs again, he took a few deep breaths and left the opposite way. Hermione had told him once that the common study area they shared was usually empty during parties so that’s where he headed.

He knew he wouldn’t cry. There was a solid chance of that coming later but, for now, at least, he just felt empty. He knew getting close to Draco again was a risk. The other man had made it perfectly clear he only wanted to be Harry’s friend. But the whiskey had lowered his inhibitions and he had pushed too far.

Harry paced the room, hands messing up his already messy hair, as he thought back on everything that had just happened and ended up even more confused.

The thing was, Draco had told him he just wanted to be friends. But his actions suggested otherwise. It had been Draco that had held his hand and Draco who had leaned it. They had been going for the kiss together, hadn’t they? And if all he wanted was to be Harry’s friend then why did he say he thought of that night on the quidditch pitch all the time? He knew Draco knew what he had been talking about.

Those words, those actions, that wasn’t what you did with just a friend.

So then why didn’t Draco want him?

“Fuck!” Harry yelled, punching a wall.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, coming in with wide eyes. “Oh, Harry.”

She sounded sad but not upset, which was probably a bad sign, as she silently went to work repairing the damage to his hand first and then to the wall.

“I’m fine Hermione,” he said as she checked him over with some of the healing spells she had learned. She had taken to interning in the hospital wing this year and the training came in handy more than it likely should.

“Well you hand certainly is but you clearly aren’t,” she said in a chastising voice that sounded like a somewhat terrifying mix of Professor McGonagall and Molly Weasley.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to talk about it?” Harry asked, albeit a bit sarcastically.

“No, because I’m one of your best friends and you are going to talk about it whether you want to or not.”

Harry smiled at his friend before frowning again and lowering himself on a loveseat nestled near the fireplace. “Bossy as ever.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

Harry sighed and conceded. “I think I love him, Hermione.”

She smiled sadly and grabbed his hand. “Oh, Harry, I know.”

“What am I going to do?”

She didn’t have an answer. The truth was, he wasn’t looking for one. He knew this wasn’t something she was going to fix for him. This was one problem that only two people could solve, and that was he and Draco.

The two sat for a while and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. Neither said anything, just took comfort in the other’s presence. After a while, Ron came looking for them. With one look he knew there was something wrong.

“Budge over,” he told Harry before squeezing on his other side.

The three of them may have drifted a bit in recent months but they would always be family and he knew he could always count on them. They sat with him until he said he was tired and wanted to go to bed.

As he left the room he heard them talking.

“Is this about Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“Of course it is. I think something may have happened between them tonight but he didn’t seem to be inclined to give me details.”

Ron sighed. “Give them time, Hermione. It took us years to figure it out.”

“You think they will?” She asked.

“They have been circling each other their whole lives. The way may have changed but that doesn’t mean they will stop being in each other’s orbit. It might just take them a bit to work out what to do with the new dynamic.”

“I constantly underestimate you, Ronald Weasley.”

“Yeah, but that’s alright. It means I get to keep impressing you and I rather like that.”

With that, Harry went to bed. His dreams that night were of him and Draco. They were giant magnets, the size of planets, constantly pushing toward each other and then pulling away, never able to meet.

Harry woke with tears on his cheeks and a hole where his heart should be. He didn’t leave his room that day and no one tried to make him.

On Sunday he woke to the sound of Hermione and Ron coming in the room and he knew he had to leave his pathetic moping behind.

“I think he’s still asleep,” Ron said.

“Well we need to wake him if we are going to say goodbye,” Hermione replied.

“Harry?” Ron called, cautiously.

Harry groaned and threw back the curtains. “I’m not asleep, ‘mione. Just haven’t gotten up.”

“I understand,” she said, coming to sit beside him. “I just wanted to let you know we are leaving. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Though he had been asked to come to the Burrow for the holidays it just didn’t feel quite right somehow. Hermione’s parents were coming this year so there were the whole parents meeting thing, Pansy was going home with Ginny so there was the whole exs thing, and honestly, he was looking forward to nearly a month alone.

“You sure you won’t come?” Ron asked.

Harry smiled. “I’m sure,” he told them. “I’ll be there for Christmas lunch, as promised, but the rest of the break I want to stay here. It’s my last year at school. I want to enjoy it while I can.”

“Alright,” Hermione said, giving him a long hug. “Well, just owl us if you need anything. Professor McGonagall said you can use her floo if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Harry said hugging Ron too, “I promise. See you in two weeks.”

As soon as they were gone, Harry took advantage of the silence. He went for a run around the lake and used the weight room, he took a long hot shower in the blessedly empty showers, and he ate a late lunch by himself in the kitchens. Though a few others have stayed, which he knows includes Draco, he is still able to spend the majority of his time by himself.

One night, after a bit too much elf wine at dinner, he has what he thinks is either going to be a really terrible or really brilliant idea.

Rushing up to his room, he grabs a few of the records he had acquired over the years and makes his way to the old defense classroom which has been mostly cleared out for the new dueling club and therefore has a lot of free space.

With a flick of his wand, the first record pulled out of its sleeve and began playing with the magical turntable spell Seamus had taught him at one of their summer parties. As the sound of the crooning love song that started this album began to fill the room, Harry tried his best to think back on what he had been taught about how to dance before the Yule ball.

Harry was determined that he would learn how to dance.

After the first night, he began to do this more and more. On several occasions, he would walk into the common room, see Draco sitting there looking at him expectantly and walk right back out again. When this happened, he always found his way to what he was beginning to see as his classroom.

The first few times were, honestly, rather dreadful. It as hard to lead a real partner much less one who did not exist. The truth was, he sort of had two left feet and he hadn’t been paying much attention the last time around. A fact, for which, he was sorely beginning to regret.

Between the dancing, the early morning runs, the many meals by himself, and his habit of leaving any room Draco was in, everyone was fairly aware that something had happened between him and Draco. Luna and Neville had both tried to talk to him about it, Pansy had none to subtly tried to get them alone together, and even the teachers seemed to give him a bit of an odd look every time he walked out of a room Draco entered.

He knew he was being childish but he was hurting and embarrassed and confused.

Not that Draco was doing much better. Though the man would stare at him often or open his mouth as if to speak, he had yet to actually say anything or seek him out. The truth was, Draco seemed to know he was in the wrong but both boys’ pride stopped them from bridging the gap to fix things.

So when he danced, he tried to pour all of his pain, frustration, and longing into the moves. In the library, he found a book on classical wizarding dance forms that he studied from front to back. He wasn’t sure if he was getting better but he certainly felt more confident, so that had to count for something.

Somehow it wasn’t even that surprised when his good thing came crashing down just three nights before Christmas.

“What in the name is Salazar are you doing?” Draco said from the door of the classroom that Harry had, apparently, forgotten to lock and ward.

He spun so fast that he fell directly on his arse.

In his embarrassment he let himself fall into the easiest emotion he could muster, anger.

“Are you fucking serious?” Harry snapped, getting up and brushing himself off. “You come into an occupied classroom that had its door closed and decide to be judgemental of what I’m doing? What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?”

“Why do you only call me Malfoy when you are insisting on being a complete tosser?” Draco said, leaning against the door frame with a single raised eyebrow and the smallest hint of a smirk.

And damn him, why did he have to look so good doing it?

Harry decided to ignore both of his questions as he went to drink some water just to give himself something to do. “What are you doing here, Draco?” Harry asked with extra emphasis on his name. He couldn’t help the edge in his tone.

“I wanted to see where you’ve been sneaking off to every time you’re within throwing distance of me,” Draco said, coming to sit at the table Harry had leaned on.

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’re my friend? Because I miss you? Because ever since that bloody party, and honestly for a while before it, things have been weird between us and I’m fucking sick of it? Take your damn pick.”

Harry stomped down the glimmer of hope his heart seemed insistent on producing at Draco’s words. “That’s interesting since you haven’t said more than ten words to me since then.”

Draco sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know and I’m sorry. I wish I had an excuse for you but I don’t. I’ve been an immature brat. But you are my friend, probably my best friend if I’m honest. You mean so bloody much to me and I just don’t want to bugger it up. But somehow every damn time I try to stop myself I still end up doing everything wrong. And I know apologizes don’t help but it doesn’t change the fact that I am. Sorry, that is.”

Harry sighed. “Apologies do help, Draco, and I appreciate you saying so.”

Draco smiled. The tension between them was certainly here but it seemed better somehow. Maybe, in time, they could figure this bizarre dynamic out.

After a bit of somewhat awkward silence, Draco began looking through the stacks of records on the table. Since the first night, Harry had gotten more, both muggle and wizard. He had actually begun to amass quite the collection.

“Ok,” Draco said as he admired the cover of an old Beatles album, “now that our Hufflepuff bonding is over, can we get back to my original question? What the hell were you doing in here?”

Harry groaned. He had been hoping they could just move on. “Please don’t make me tell you.”

“I won’t make you,” Draco said, “but I hope you’ll tell me anyway.”

Of course, Harry would tell him. Despite everything, there was no one he wanted to share things with more than this infuriating man.

“Fine,” Harry conceded, “but if you laugh I’ll get Ginny to bat bogey you the minute she gets back.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

“I’m trying to learn to dance,” Harry admitted, not looking Draco in the eye.

“By yourself?” Draco asked, genuinely looking confused but, blessedly, not judgemental.

“It’s not like I had a lot of choice in the matter,” Harry said before taking a deep, steadying breath. “Look, I know this seems ridiculous, especially to someone who probably got bloody dance lessons once they could walk just so they could be impressive at all the pureblood galas and balls and shit, but it’s important to me. The Yule ball was bloody embarrassing. I looked like an idiot. It’s not like I’m expecting to be able to waltz across the room like a professional or anything but I just don’t want to spend the whole night looking at my feet and trying not to step on whoever actually decides to be brave and chance a dance with me.”

Draco looked at him for a long moment and Harry knew his face was likely bright red. He had to look away.

“Is this why you looked liked you’d just seen a dementor when they announced the dance?” Draco asked. Harry nodded his head, trying his best not to feel ashamed.

After what felt like hours Draco came over and sat directly beside Harry. “You know,” he said with a small smile in his voice, “I happen to be very good at dancing. You're not wrong that I took lessons young. We all did.”

“Yeah, rub it in, that’s exactly what I need right now. Every single one of you lot is gonna be dancing circles around me and laughing.”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out slowly. “Harry, sometimes you are so thick.”

With that he rose to his feet and stood in front of Harry, one hand held out to him.

“I told you that because I’m saying I can teach you,” Draco said.

Harry just stared at him, trying to make sense of the other man's words. Draco wanted to teach him how to dance? Draco who seemed like he wanted nothing more than to put distance between them was offering to be in closer proximity for longer than they had since that night on the quidditch pitch? Harry didn’t understand and told Draco as much.

“You’re going to teach me how to dance?” Harry said realizing he sounded a bit dumb. But really, what was Draco on about?

Draco sighed but still didn’t drop his hand. “Yes, Harry. Here’s the thing, you can’t learn to partner dance without a partner. I can be your partner. I know how to lead but I’m just as good at following. Take a chance on me. You won’t regret it.”

Somehow Harry deeply doubted that. But looking into Draco’s silver eyes, shining with sincerity and determination, Harry screwed up all his Gryffindor courage and put his hand in Draco’s.

Draco pulled him to his feet until their bodies were well aligned. Draco didn’t let go and Harry couldn’t breathe.

“Ok,” Draco said, voice a bit husky and low. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Ok. First things first we need to teach you form. For the majority of dances, no matter the gender of your partner, if you are leading the form is the same.”

Harry couldn’t look away from Draco’s penetrating stare as he moved them into the proper position, gentle yet commanding.

“For one, your right hand will go to my waist. Aim for just a bit above my hips. Any lower would be suggestive and any higher you lose your control over their center of gravity. Then, I will place my right hand in your left. You want a gentle enough grip that you can move my hand easily when executing turns but firmly enough that I can detect where you are trying to move me. We want about at least fifteen centimeters of space between us. It’s enough to create the intimacy dance calls for without losing proprietary.”

Harry could have laughed at what Draco was saying if he wasn’t so breathless his head was spinning. The distance between them felt as big as an ocean yet as small as the distance between breaths. He could feel the heat radiating off Draco and it was intoxicating. His ever-present smell of cedar and orange made Harry’s head spin. Intimacy was the perfect words for what was between them at this moment, propriety be damned.

“Now for the movement. The basic moves are easy. Since you are leading you will essentially be pushing and pulling me with gentle pressure in the places our bodies connect. The most important thing is matching your feet to the music. You’ll start with your left foot, pushing me backward so I follow with my right. Then you step to the right, then left follows right, left steps back, and bring your feet together again. This is called a box step because you are moving in a box. Make sense?”

Harry coughed and then took a breath, trying to concentrate. “I think so,” he said.

“Alright,” Draco said, “show me.”

Harry nodded and did as he was told. They took it slow, Harry only missing a step a couple of times, as they mostly successfully did three boxes.

“That’s perfect,” Draco told him, not dropping his hand. “We need to work a bit on you remembering which direction to go and you need to meet my eyes more but still very good. That will be the basis for a waltz. Now let’s teach you to turn.”

And the night went on like this. As Harry’s nervousness faded and Draco’s smiles grew he had to admit he was having fun. It didn't always go smoothly. More than once he turned them into the edge of a desk or stepped wrong and hit Draco. But he had to admit he was getting it.

The joy of having Draco in his arms was just a bonus.

It felt so natural between them. Draco never complained about having to follow and was surprisingly patient with Harry as a student. There were some winces when toes got stepped on and they snapped at each other a few times. Still, it was the happiest Harry had been in a long time.

As night began to turn into day, however, and the classroom started to fill with morning light the pair reluctantly parted.

“You go to the burrow tomorrow, don’t you?” Draco asked as they made their way back to the dorms, records safely stored in a warded closet in their unexpected dance classroom.

“Gods,” Harry said, “I nearly forgot how late in break it already is.”

“Will you be gone long?” Draco asked, refusing to meet Harry’s eye.

Harry smiled. “Just for the day. I’m back the next. Why? You going to miss me.”

Draco shoved him playfully. “Of course not, wanker. I just want to see how long I get to enjoy some actual peace and quiet.”

Harry laughed as they got back to the door to his room. “sorry to disappoint but I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

“I’ve noticed,” Draco said with a smirk. Harry shoved him this time.

“Why did you actually ask, anyway?”

“Well,” Draco continued with a slight blush on his cheeks, “I was just going to say we could try dancing again when you get back if you want. You were really making some progress and I think you could be quite good. Besides, you still need to learn how to follow too in case you decide to be in that role.”

Harry should know better. Being as close to Draco as he had been tonight was overwhelming at best and self-destructive at worst. But he couldn’t help himself. He loved the feeling of holding Draco. Of the man's strong arms holding him and his own pushing right back. If Draco’s hand in his, warm and solid and right. Besides, Harry had never been great and doing what was good for him. He should have said no.

“I would love that,” Harry said instead.

“Great,” Draco said as they reached their dorm room hall. “After you get back then. Same place and time?”

Harry nodded “Goodnight Draco,” Harry said as the blond turned and headed for his door.

Draco sent a dazzling smile to Harry before closing his own door softly.

Harry wasted no time hopping into bed, adrenaline and desire coursing through his veins in equal measure. His hand was in his pants and a silencing charm on the door before he could even get fully undressed.

“Oh god,” Harry moaned quietly as he slid his hand over his rock hard erection. All he could think of was the feeling of Draco being in his arms.

As he touched himself he thought back over the night. The way their thighs would brush during a turn, just centimeters from where he needed the friction, the way Draco’s breath ghosted against his cheek when he counted out their steps. The look in Draco’s eyes as they moved together.

Harry had never been much for dancing, but with Draco as a partner, he thought he could get used to it.

As the images and proximity and ghost of feeling continued to pour over him, Harry worked himself that much faster. “Oh yes,” Harry breathed, imagining it was Draco’s hand instead of his own.

They had been one as they moved, though he didn’t know why he was surprised. They had always been in sync with each other. They had always been able to be in each other’s space, detecting what the other would do or say or feel. It’s just that now, instead of it leading to them punching or hexing each other, it was fed into being able to move together in each other’s arms.

Harry knew, without a doubt, that they would move together just as seamlessly inside each other. The thought was enough to send him over the edge.

“Oh god, Draco!” He cried as he spilled all over his hand and the bed.

He fell back, boneless into his pillow. Agreeing to dance with Draco, and then agreeing to do it again, was likely one of the worst decisions he could have made.

He couldn’t wait.

When he awoke the next day he headed to the burrow at lunchtime. As usual, the home was filled with enough redheads to make it nearly uncomfortable and an abundance of smells that had Harry’s stomach growling in anticipation. 

He intended to head straight for Ron and Hermione who he spotted on a couch near the fire speaking with Bill and Fleur but kept getting distracted by one Weasley or friend of the Weasleys at each turn. Andromeda wanted to show him how big Teddy had gotten. Ginny and Pansy wanted to show off their new promise rings. Percy wanted to ask if Harry was applying for the author program and Molly loaded him with a plate of mini sausage rolls and a mug of hot mulled mead.

Finally, after nearly half an hour, he made it to his friends. “I swear these parties get crazier each year.”

“They do,” George bemoaned. “As more and more of you lot shack up and pop our children more and more people show up. Pretty soon we’ll need a bigger house just to accommodate everyone.”

“Ah, cheer up,” Charlie said, approaching with a gorgeous man on his arm. “It’s not this lot’s fault that Monica dumped you a week before Christmas”

“Bloody cruel if you ask me,” George said, flopping inelegantly onto the couch. “If you are gonna dump someone do it no sooner than a month before a holiday. Otherwise, you may as well bloody wait until after it’s over.”

“And that’s enough mead for you,” Fleur said, plucking his glass from George’s hand. “Honestly, watch your language. There are children about.”

“Are they always like this?” The man with Charlie asked Harry under his breath.

Harry laughed. “Just wait,” he said. “I’ve seen it get much worse than this on good years. What do you expect from a bunch of redheads?”

The man laughed, a rich and full sound that made Harry understand exactly what Charlie saw in this man. “I’m Simon by the way,” he said.

“Harry,” he said, shaking the man's now free hand as Charlie and George had gotten into some weird arm-wrestling contest that Harry was keen to stay far away from. “Although somehow I suspect you knew that already.”

“I may have done,” Simon said with a cheeky smile.

“Did we go to Hogwarts together by chance? It’s just you don’t seem very familiar to me and I would feel bad if we were classmates.”

“Ah, no,” Simon said with a laugh. “I was at Beauxbatons. Charlie and I met up in Romania. I am I guess what you’d call a dragon healer, I guess you could say. But everyone knows who Harry Potter is, even across the pond.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” he said before noticing he was being beckoned by Ron and Hermione who were heading into the backyard. “It was great to meet you but I think I’m being summoned.”

“I’ll be around if you manage to find freedom again,” Simon said with a wink before going back into the fray to find his boyfriend.

Harry made his way outside and took a deep breath of the cold December air before making his way over to Hermione and Ron.

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Hermione said, hugging him tightly. 

“And to you,” Harry said, “both of you. How has the holiday been?”

“It’s been fun, mate,” Ron said, clapping him on the back. “We played quidditch and ate way too much food. Hermione’s parents got on well with Mum although I think Dad was a bit overwhelming.”

“I can see that,” Harry said.

As the three caught up they drank their mead and laughed about what they had all been up to. As much as he had been worried about coming here for the holiday he should have known that this would always be his home and everyone here would always be his family.

After dinner, everyone got together on the lawn for a bonfire that had been lit. Everyone wrapped in blankets and warming charms and sang Christmas carols late into the night.

It was after Harry had consumed quite a lot of mead that Ginny and Pansy found him talking with Hermione and Ron.

“So Harry,” Ginny said, a wicked glint in her eye, “you’ve seemed particularly joyful today. Much more than when we left you back at the Castle. Want to share with the class what’s got you in such high spirits?”

Pansy grinned at her girlfriend. “I’ll bet I can take a guess that it has something to do with the fact that Draco wrote this morning and said he hoped everyone was having fun, as if being friends with him for nearly fifteen years didn’t make it obvious I knew he was talking about Harry.”

“How could you possibly get that from that?” Harry asked, genuinely confused but also fighting a blush.

“It’s a girl thing,” Pansy said with an unaffected shrug.

“All teasing aside,” Hermione said with her serious face on, “did something happen? You don’t have to tell us, I suppose, but we’re your friends and we want to support you.”

“I bloody well don’t,” Ron said, his cheeks flushed scarlet. “No offense, Harry. You know that I support you and whoever you want to, uh, do stuff with. Still, though, there are certain things a guy just shouldn’t know about his best mate.”

Harry laughed. “Don’t worry, Ron. Your ears are safe.”

“So nothing happened?” Pansy said, looking genuinely confused.

“Well I wouldn’t quite say that,” Harry said, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question. He wasn’t quite ready to admit to the dancing but he was dying to talk about his feelings with someone.

“Explain,” Ginny demanded, looking far too happy for someone he had once slept with to be hearing about the person he currently wanted to. The had a weird relationship.

“We did start talking again,” Harry said. “It was nice. I don’t like avoiding him. Being around him makes me happy. And there was a moment. Or, more of an almost moment. We seem to have a lot of those. It’s just, I don’t know how to explain it. Somehow it feels like something has shifted. It feels like maybe it’s time to try again?”

He ended it on a question because he truly didn’t know. Was it time? Was he ready to risk his heart again? It was just a matter of whether he was brave enough to risk it all again.

“I think you should go for it,” Ginny said.

Pansy nodded her agreement. “No doubt. That boy is head over heels, crazy in love with you. He always has been. Time to screw up that Gryffindor courage and face this head-on.”

“As much as I hate agreeing to anything Pansy says,” Ron said as she stuck her tongue out at him, “I think she’s right this time. He looks at you like you hung the moon. He’s probably just scared. It’s been a really tough year. I think he’s afraid of fucking it up.”

“Sometimes your emotional insights shock me,” Pansy said.

“The truth is,” Hermione said, ignoring the others, “are you ready to risk your heart again? You know it’s never going to be easy with the two of you.”

“You’re right,” Harry said. “It’s risky but I think it’s worth it. I think Draco’s worth it.”

Ginny smiled softly at him. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I really do.”

As the night wore on and the topics shifted elsewhere, Harry found himself lost in his own thoughts. Maybe it was just that Draco was scared. They had both been through so much that it was hard to trust again. But he knew his feelings weren’t one-sided. It was in the way they talked, the way they touched, the way they looked at each other. This was real for Draco too.

What he had told them may have been fueled a bit by the alcohol but it didn’t make it any less true. Draco was worth the risk. It was time.

Harry would do whatever it took to prove his love for Draco and show him that he didn’t need to be scared anymore. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how.


	5. Spring

“Alright Harry,” Draco said as he corrected his stance for the Viennese waltz for the third time that evening, “I know this is a difficult position but you can get this. You need to see the movements for this one as a circle rather than a box the way all of the other dances we’ve practiced have been formatted.”

Harry huffed impatiently before moving his arms back to the starting position to meet Draco. “A circle,” he said. “I get it. A fucking circle. I don’t even know why you’re making me learn this one. We already have three other dances down near perfectly and even the damn Samba is coming along. Can’t we just focus on those?”

Draco dropped Harry’s hands and stopped the music, heading to the little table in the corner for a drink of water, though that was more of an excuse to give him time than it was actually needed for thirst.

In truth, Draco knew exactly why he was so insistent that Harry learned this particular waltz. The simple fact was that is was very difficult and took years to master. He wanted Harry to learn it because he wasn’t ready to let him go.

It had been just over three months since they started their dance lessons and Harry had made immense amounts of progress. While in the beginning the man was stubborn and frustrated and each movement was tight, now he was loose and smiled and hardly looked at his feet while they danced. Soon, Harry wouldn’t need Draco anymore and all of this would end.

It wasn’t just the dancing, though. Those three months had been full of late-night talks, game nights with friends, butterbeer in Hogsmeade at the weekend, and sneaking into the kitchen after curfew for snacks. Harry had been teaching him about muggle things like movies and telephones which he had helped tutor Harry in potions. They worked together and had fun together. They still fought on occasion but it always ended in laughter. In this classroom and without they had become closer than they had ever been.

Draco was desperate to make sure it didn’t end.

Thus, the Viennese waltz.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco said, turning to face him. “You are absolutely right. I know you just wanted to get enough skills so that you wouldn’t feel embarrassed at the ball and you have certainly achieved that. We can stop all of this if you’d like.”

Harry rolled his eyes and came over to Draco, changing the album for something slower and took Draco’s hand, leading him back to the middle of their made-up dance floor. Draco forced himself not to shudder at the contact.

“That’s not what I said,” Harry told him. “Don’t be melodramatic. I definitely still need work on my traditional waltz and two-step. I still want to dance with you, I would just rather focus on dances that are fun and don’t make me want to stab you with a fork.”

Draco snorted as they started to dance. “Now who’s being melodramatic?”

Harry hummed contentedly and put his head on Draco’s shoulder, this time allowing himself to be led around the room.

Despite his reservations, Draco kept quiet after that. If Harry still wanted to dance with him he certainly wasn’t going to complain. Instead of fighting it, he decided to simply sink into the comfort of Harry’s arms and let the magic of the moment drift around them. Being here, with a smiling Harry wrapped around him, was easily the best part of his life at the moment.

Outside of the walls of this little classroom that they had taken as their own, Draco felt as if his life was falling apart.

As the school year rapidly barrelled towards its conclusion, the tension and stress levels in the eighth year dorms were at a height it hadn’t reached before. The parties on the weekends had begun to give way to study sessions in the library, much to Hermione’s dismay. People began using their free time and ability to leave the castle to look for internships or jobs as opposed to Hogsmeade shopping trips of bar-hopping excursions. Conversations seemed to revolve around NEWTS and career placement now where once the talk was of Quidditch or general gossip.

For Draco, the stress as even higher. He knew that because he was marked, his prospects after school were lower than others. He had already been denied entry to two different healer training programs and his application to the ministry’s unspeakable program had been rapidly denied. While he understood, it didn’t help him feel any better about the situation.

That was why he so looked forward to the nights he spent with Harry. It had become a way for both of them to blow off steam for a few hours and do something that was just fun and just for them. They didn’ meet every night but it was often enough that it had become a routine. Sometimes Draco still got scared and felt like it was too much. But every time he tried to pull away, Harry was right there gently guiding them back together again. Never pushing for anything, just constantly reminding Draco that he was still there and wasn’t going anywhere. That there was nothing to be afraid of.

Draco’s resolve was slipping and he couldn’t help the hope slowly blooming in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, that one night on the quidditch pitch didn’t have to be their only one.

It was one night at dinner that a stray conversation gave Draco the first good idea he’d had in months.

“Did you hear that Professor Slughorn is retiring after next year?” Lavender asked Pavarti as they started to serve that night’s pudding.

“No,” Padma replied. “Did he say why?”

“I don’t think he ever really wanted to come back to teach,” Dean said beside them. “I heard he only did it as a personal favor to Dumbledore.”

“If that’s true then why did he stay as long as he has?” Ginny asked.

“No idea,” Dean said. “But it is kind of a shame. He was actually a pretty decent teacher.”

“Any clue who’s replacing him?” Pansy asked, eyes flicking to Draco’s with a small smile.

“No,” Lavender said, “but I imagine it won’t be easy to find a qualified master now that the war’s over. Most of them have started working for the ministry or St. Mungos. It would have to be someone who doesn’t already have any other commitments.”

As he listened to the other’s conversation, Draco could feel his skin buzzing. The look Pansy and Blaise were shooting him was all too knowing. After all, they had talked about this many times.

When the three of them began school together they used to sit up late in the common room, illuminated by nothing more than the green, murky light from the lake windows and a few candles. It was only then, when everyone else was already in bed, that they felt free enough to be themselves and talk about their dreams. Even if those dreams were ones that could never come true. Sometimes the dreams were of love or power. But, more often than not, they were simply about the future.

The ideas had changed now and then over the years.

Blaise had originally said he didn’t want to work and simply wanted to be a man of leisure, traveling all over the world to any wizarding village he could find. As he got older, though, his dreams began to change. As they studied, he discovered he truly had a love for herbology. Though he didn’t know where it would take him, Blaise decided he dreamed of a life cultivating and selling rare plants.

Pansy’s dreams seemed to rotate as quickly as her crushes on famous celebrities. First, she wanted to be a supermodel. Then, she set her sights on running a fashion magazine. She once even wanted to be a magizoologist after Newt Scamander’s son had done a lecture series at the school. It wasn’t until late in their fifth year that she settled on becoming a curse-breaker, much to both boys surprise. The dream had not changed and she was actively working towards it still today.

Draco, unlike his friends, had always had a dream that hadn’t changed since he was very young. As a child with Severus Snape as a godfather, Draco had been around potions for years. He had always valued the intricacy of them, the art. One wrong move could change a healing draught to a poison. It relied on understanding complex magical techniques, memorization of countless properties and materials, and the subtle manipulation of magic and matter. Coming to Hogwarts and seeing his godfather in action just strengthened his dedication to the dream.

Draco Malfoy wanted, more than anything in the world, to become a potions master.

However, like many other things the war changed, his last few years had dulled his ability to dream. It was hard for him to imagine that he would ever be deserving of anything good or anything he truly desired. So he let go of his ambition and let his dreaming fall away. When you didn’t even know if you would survive the day it was hard to dwell much on childhood dreams.

Yet here he was, hearing about the possible answer to his recent problems, and suddenly all his dreams came rushing back to him like a tidal wave. Could this be the answer he had been seeking all along?

“I have to go,” Draco said, standing suddenly and clambering over the bench inelegantly in his haste.

“Good luck, Draco,” Blaise said with a small smile and a nod.

“Did I miss something?” Harry said, just sitting down as Draco started to leave.

“Don’t worry,” he heard Pansy say as he headed toward the doors of the great hall, “something tells me you won’t have to wait long to find out.”

Draco left the hall as quickly as he could, barely paying anyone else any attention. He knew that Professor Slughorn generally ate his dinner early before proceeding to his chambers to work on his correspondence. If he had any hope of catching him alone, now was the time.

As he rushed through the halls and down to the dungeons his head was spinning. This was mad, honestly. Why would Slughorn take him on? The man barely knew him! In sixth year he had been distracted most of the year, seventh he had only attended half the year, and this year he wasn’t in the class at all. Still, though, the idea that this was exactly what he had been waiting for wouldn’t leave his head.

When he reached the professor’s door he took a minute to slow his breathing and smooth his rumpled clothes and hair. Father always taught him that it’s best to appear as if you are confident even if you are not. Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. At least his father had some pieces of good advice, even if most of what he said was utter bollocks. With that sobering thought, Draco conjured up whatever confidence he could find and knocked.

The door opened after not even a minute to a very confused looking Professor Slughorn.

“Mr. Malfoy,” he said, opening the door a bit wider and gesturing to let Draco in, “my my, this is a surprise. What brings you here this late in the evening, especially seeing as you are not in my class this year.”

“I apologize for the intrusion, professor,” Draco started, accepting the seat his former teacher offered him. “You see, I was just in the great hall when I overheard something I wanted to ask you about if you don’t mind.”

“Now I am intrigued,” Slughorn said. “Do continue.”

“Well,” Draco continued, “Lavender and a few of the other eighth year students were saying that they heard that you were retiring. Is that true?”

The professor frowned a bit sadly, glancing at a shelf of portraits and pictures of, what Draco assumed, were former students. “It is true,” he said. “I regret to say it but I just don’t have it in me anymore. When Dumbledore asked me to come back, I’ll admit I was reluctant. But I have enjoyed my time here a great measure more than I had expected. But I’m getting old and I’m not the wizard I used to be. It’s a great deal of work maintaining a potions mastery. IT requires continuous study, testing every few years, and a great deal of other ridiculously trivial things I won’t bore you with. My next set of testing is a year away and I find I don’t want to take the time or effort to both with the damned thing. So, because mastery is required to teach, I am choosing to resign instead. Focus on the theory more than actual potion work.”

“I understand,“ Draco said. 

“Why do you ask, anyway?” Slughorn inquired. “By that time you will have already left this school and gone on to bigger and brighter things. I should think the retirement of a professor who you were barely even a student of should be of little consequence to you.”

“The thing is,” Draco said, swallowing deeply, “I was wondering if you would consider taking on an apprentice for your final year. Someone who, if they were to do well enough, could maybe become a potion master themselves and then come back here to teach?”

“Are you saying you would have an interest in teaching?” Slughorn said with eyebrows raised high.

“I know it probably seems out of character to you,” Draco said. “I was a bully most of my formative years, I can admit that. Even during the war, I spent far too much of my time on the wrong side. But, believe it or not, all I have wanted for some time now is to help. I have been denied from the ministry as well as several healer programs. Most of the internships I have sought out say they will let me know which we all know is code for no and you’ll never hear from us again.”

Draco stood and began to pace as he talked. “I made a lot of mistakes throughout my life and I have spent most of this year trying to make up for them. I recognize that not everyone will want their child taught by a former death eater. Merlin, I don’t even know if McGonagall would want me. But I love potions and I’ve always been good at them. All I’m asking for is a chance and I’m hoping you’ll give it to me.”

With that he stopped, realizing he was rambling at this point. Slughorn was assessing him with a critical eye but said nothing for some time. When the man finally spoke it was not what Draco had expected to hear.

“I cannot deny that you are good at potions,” Slughorn told him as he jotted something down on some parchment. “After all, I was the one who both wrote and graded the exam that allowed you to not take my class. Besides, from what I have heard from the alchemy teacher about your excellence in their class, you have not squandered that free time but rather used it to pursue a path even more advanced than potions. I believe potions mastery would not only suit you well but would make your godfather proud.”

Draco stood stunned at his former professor’s words, but the man was not done yet.

“I would like you to take this letter to the owlery,” he said, handing Draco the letter he had apparently been penning as they spoke. “You may read it if you wish but I will tell you what it said. In summary, I have asked her if she would accept you as my apprentice. If she agrees you would report to me exactly one week after the termination of classes to begin training. When the school year begins you will watch me, study under me, and do many of the easier tasks you would take on as a professor. This includes things such as brewing the example potions for the class, grading, testing potions, things of that nature. 

“At the end of the year, you will be given a final exam of my devising to test your readiness for your potions mastery exam. Pass that and you will take your official licensing tests. Following that, which I have little doubt you will be able to achieve, you will be taken on as a sort of student-teacher. While you will be the official professor of the school I will act as the final say for lesson plans, testing schedules, etcetera. Following a year of that, if all goes well, I will settle into my retirement, happy in the knowledge that the students had been left in capable hands. Does this sound agreeable to you?”

For a full minute, Draco stood saying nothing. The words felt as if they wouldn’t sink in. Slughorn was giving him what he wanted. He was going to get the chance to finally do something he loved and help people as he did so.

Finally, he was able to reply. “Thank you,” Draco said, shaking his new mentor’s hand, “thank you so unbelievably much, Professor. You have no idea how much this opportunity means to me.”

Slughorn laughed and clapped him on the back. “We all need someone to give us a chance,” he said. “I see a lot of myself in you. You shall be the crowning glory of my collection. Also, under the circumstances, I think you had better start calling me Horace.”

With that, the professor showed him out. Draco headed straight for the owlery, giving the letter to a school owl, before heading back to the common room. His head was spinning with everything that had just happened. He felt drunk with relief, hardly daring to believe any of it was real.

The second he opened the door, Pansy and Blaise called him over to their spot on a loveseat by the fire.

“So what happened,” Pansy asked, already buzzing with excitement as if she could already tell what Draco was going to say. Maybe she could. That woman was irritatingly perceptive.

“He’s giving me a shot,” Draco said, shaking his head.

“Just like that?” Blaise asked. “Are there stipulations or anything?”

“Well,” Draco said, squeezing Pansy’s hand in his, “McGonagall has to agree. And there will be tests and training and such, but I’ve always been good at that sort of thing. But overall, yeah, I’m going to train as his apprentice, then I’ll be a student-teacher of sorts, and then a full-blown professor. God, pinch me or something, this can’t be happening- OW!”

Draco yelped when Pansy pinched him hard. He scowled at her and she cackled. “Not dreaming then. It’s real. You’re getting your dream.”

“Seems like this is the year we learn anything really is possible,” Blaise said.

Blaise was right. It certainly seemed like anything was. Without meaning to, his eyes met Harry’s across the room and the man smiled at him, brighter than the sun. Draco smiled right back. Anything was possible.

It took a few weeks before Draco heard any more news on the subject but eventually, Draco got called into McGonagall’s office where he was informed that, upon completion of his potions NEWT exam with a score of Outstanding or better, he would be gratefully accepted as Horace Slughorn’s apprentice and possible future Hogwarts professor.

He stumbled back to the common room with a grin on his face he couldn’t have erased if he tried.

“What’s with you,” Ginny asked when he plopped down where she, Pansy, and Luna were working on some kind of project.

“Did you get it?” Luna asked and Draco simply nodded. She threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you.”

After Pansy and Blaise, she had been the first person he told. The two of them had grown surprisingly close over the year. He was grateful to have her as a friend. She had this really special way of making everyone feel important and cared for. It made sense that she was planning on going on to become a mind healer after Hogwarts.

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d be teaching people,” Ginny said with a grin.

Suddenly, the weight of it all crashed on him. She was right. It was unbelievable. What if no one respected him? He would be so young when he started here, practically still a student himself. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“You deserve this Draco. No, you do,” Pansy said, interrupting him before he could say anything. “Look, the last couple of years have been hell for everyone, but more so for you than most. I know you want to take responsibility for everyone’s suffering just because you were a dumbass and took the mark but it is not your fault. We were children, Draco. Far too young to make the decisions we were forced to make. And we were fucking scared.”

“It’s true,” Ginny agreed. “I know I make jokes about it but you have come such a long way, Draco. You are strong and smart and determined. You’ve helped people since the start of summer and you just want to do more of that. The war took so many things from us but it also gave us a lot. It taught us who we really are and who we want to be.”

“You really think that?” Draco asked. Luna hooked her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder.

“We all know that,” she told him. “Besides, your aura is changing. There’s so much more yellow now and sort red. You have hope, Draco. And love. You need to learn to embrace that.”

Draco smiled at his friends. “Thank you guys,” he said, standing up. “You’re right. I need to stop being scared of the things I want, the things that make me happy. If others can start to forgive me it’s time I forgave myself.”

“So where are you going now?” Ginny asked with a smile, hand firmly in Pansy’s.

“I have to go see a boy,” Draco said with a wink before leaving the room. As he walked he smiled, knowing exactly where Harry would be.

When he to what he had come to think of as their classroom, Harry had already put a record on and was standing at the window staring out at the gardens below. From here, there was always a perfect view. It happened to be a full moon which meant the entire area as bathed in a pale light that made everything seem just a bit more enchanted than it already was. Everything but Harry. Nothing could make him any more perfect than he was on his own.

“Hey,” Draco said as he approached the other man.

Harry jumped a bit. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you were coming tonight. You seemed really busy all week so I assumed you might not have time.”

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” Draco said and then laughed, the sound making Harry smile which made him beam even more. “Dance with me?” He asked.

Harry looked confused but took his hand anyway. They danced close, not much for form. Draco just wanted to enjoy the feel of Harry in his arms. He felt so close to getting everything he ever wanted. Tonight was just one more step. He didn’t know if he was strong enough for the next step yet but, tonight at least, having Harry close was enough. The other man clearly didn’t mind.

It was two full songs later, when the record came to an end, that Harry finally pulled back just enough for Draco to see him clearly as he spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Hary started, “because I truly do enjoy just dancing with you, but is there any particular reason you are in such a good mood this evening? Does this have anything to do with the night you went racing out of the great hall and have refused to tell me about.”

His reasons for not telling Harry before now seemed so futile. It all came down to fear. Fear that he wouldn’t get it. Fear he wasn’t good enough. Fear that Harry wouldn’t think he was good enough. It all seemed so silly now. Harry had always believed in him, even when he didn’t like him. He always had faith that Draco would accomplish what he wanted, for better or worse.

The two went and sat in chairs by the window as Draco conjured what they needed to make tea as he contemplated how to say what he needed to Harry.

“Have you ever looked at your life and not recognized it?” Draco began to explain.

Harry laughed and nodded. “It seems to be a recurring theme in my life, yeah.”

“Well that just happened to me this year,” Draco explained. “I’ve had my future mapped out for me as long as I can remember. Go to Hogwarts, become a Slytherin, get top marks in all classes, make a lot of important connections, graduate and find a way to make myself important. I was expected to find a respectable wife from a pureblood family, have children, and continue on the Malfoy family legacy.”

Harry snorted and Daco rolled his eyes.

“The things is, I have been fucking up my father’s vision from the start. First, there was Granger. I was always a step behind her in everything. It would have been bad enough to have anyone beating me but for it to be a muggle-born was unacceptable. Then I turn around and end up being gay! Oh, the joyful night it was when I admitted that to him.”

“I can only imagine the look on his face,” Harry said, putting a tentative hand on Draco’s. He didn’t pull away.

“Trust me,” Draco said, turning his hand to thread his and Harry’s fingers together, “it’s even more comical than you are imagining. But that’s not the point. He’s not the point. The point is the war ended and I’m still alive. I get to decide my future. I get to decide if I have kids and where I want to live. I get to decide what career I want or, hell, if I want to have a career at all! I get to decide who I love. No one is telling me how to live my life anymore.”

“That does sound like the kind of thing that would put you in a good mood,” Harry said.

“I’ll admit this,” Draco said, pulling Harry to his feet and putting on another album. He let them sway a bit together before continuing, just enjoying feeling Harry’s body pressed against his. “I’ll admit that it’s terrifying. I only ever let myself dream when it was late enough that almost everyone was in bed and the only people around were the ones I knew would not judge me. I never let myself believe that I would actually have any say in my own future. And now that I do, now that I’m on the brink of getting everything I never allowed myself to want, I’m fucking terrified.”

Harry pulled back and looked at Draco, leaving him feeling exposed and raw. He was so in love with this man and he didn’t think he could stop it anymore. He wanted to build a life with him. For once, Draco let himself dream of the future and every scenario involved Harry.

“Did I ever tell you what I wanted to be when I grew up?” Draco said with a grin.

Harry laughed. “No,” he said, resuming their slow dance. “Tell me your dreams, Draco.”

“I wanted to be a potions master and teach at Hogwarts,” Draco admitted quietly.

Harry smiled and nodded. “I can actually see that,” he said. “Would you be all sweeping robes and dramatic mood lighting like Snape?”

Draco snorted. “Hardly,” he said. “But I have imagined the classroom. I don’t think I would have it in the dungeons. Maybe a class like this, with big windows and a nice view. It would mean I would need to be more cognizant of the temperature as glass isn’t as good at regulating it as stone. I always would be mindful of the light. But still, I don’t want people thinking potions is something you can only do in a dark, damp, far away place I want it to feel accessible and interesting. The dungeons just make it feel, well, a bit creepy if I’m honest.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Harry said.

“The thing is,” Draco said, “it isn’t just a dream tomorrow. That day when I sped out of the great hall was because I found out Slughorn is retiring and they didn’t have a new teacher to take his place. I went and talked to him to see if he would consider taking me as an apprentice. I’m not sure where I got the courage to even ask but I did. The amazing thing is he said yes. Even more amazing, though, is what I found out today.”

Draco stopped their dance and reached into the pocket of his robes, pulling out McGonagall’s letter and handing it to Harry. The man’s eyes grew bigger as he read before he looked back up with a blinding smile.

“I’m so happy for you,” Harry said, throwing his arms around Draco and holding him tightly. “Really. This is amazing news.”

“Right?” Draco said into’s Harry’s hair. “It just doesn’t feel real. I might actually get the chance to be truly happy.”

Harry pulled back just a small bit and they both fell silent. He brushed a hand over Draco’s cheek which Draco leaned into, closing his eyes. He knew what he had said since the beginning but he couldn’t help it. He was so happy and this felt so right. When he opened his eyes he immediately got lost in the sea-green ocean of Harry’s. He knew what was coming before it happened and he was helpless to stop it.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, breath ghosting against Draco’s face before, finally, their lips crashed together again as they both gave in to the longing they could no longer deny.

Unlike the last two times, Harry enthusiastically took the lead with this kiss. His hands were everywhere all at once. As they kissed, Harry slowly backed Draco up until his back was against the wall before pressing the entire length of their bodies together. They were both hard and panting, frantic for more.

Being with Harry like this was addicting. He had never felt more in tune with someone, as if their very souls knew they were meant to be here long before either of the did. With Harry’s hand heavy on his hip and Draco’s tracing patterns in the man’s back, it was like every other though drained from Draco’s head and he was left with nothing but love, lust, and a fog that filled him from head to toe making his very skin prickle with anticipation. The rest of the world didn’t exist here.

Except the real world did exist. This little fantasy they had created wasn’t real. They couldn’t just be together. Harry was the hero of the wizarding world. It didn’t matter how Draco felt.

Every inch of Draco’s body was on fire and he was terrified. He knew there would never be anyone else for him but Harry but what if the feeling wasn’t returned?

Draco pulled away, all of his insecurities crashing back down on him. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. He didn’t get happy endings. Those were meant for heroes like Harry. What could Draco ever offer a hero? 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking beautiful and thoroughly confused.

“I can’t-” Draco said, his breaths coming fast as he paced around the room. He had to get out of here.

“Please,” Harry said, “please just talk to me. Please don’t run away again.”

“I’m too scared,” Draco finally admitted. It felt both better and worse to say it out loud.

“What are you scared of?” Harry asked.

“You,” Draco said, finally stopping. “I’m scared of you, Harry.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “It seemed like you wanted this and you know I want this. Why do you keep pulling away from me every time we get close to finally, finally getting somewhere good?”

“Because we can’t happen,” Draco said, voice frantic and just barely away from yelling. “We can’t, you know that. I was a bloody death eater! I tried to kill you and your friends more than once! I did terrible things, hurt so many people. I have been fighting for redemption this whole year but there is nothing I could do to be good enough to deserve you.”

“Because of what everyone else says?” Harry yelled back. “Screw them! I don’t care what they think. I just want you, Draco. That’s all I’ve wanted all bloody year. You don’t get to decide for me what I want.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” Draco said.

“Well stop,” Harry yelled, magic crackling out of his very veins.

“You don’t get it, I can't.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” Draco yelled back.

And then there was silence. It lasted one beat and then two. Harry looked gobsmacked and Draco was frozen.

“Draco,” Harry said, starting to take a step toward him.

And then Draco ran. He ran out of the castle, past the quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, all the way to the edge of the black lake.

“Fuck!” Draco yelled as he slashed his wand at the ground with a blast of pure magic, causing a flurry of magpies to fly off in the distance as the sound reverberated off the rocks and trees around them.

He watched the birds fly off as he sunk down against a tree and began to sob. He had been so close to happiness and then he had fucked it all up, like usual. He had wanted to tell Harry how he felt for ages but not like that. Not in the middle of a fight and certainly not by screaming it at him. Draco put his head in his hands as silent tears continued to stream down his face.

As the sun began to set beyond the horizon he heard the light crunch of feet on fallen leaves behind him. He knew who it was without looking up.

“Hello, Luna,” Draco said as his friend sat beside him.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, looking out at the lake as well. She was quiet for a long time.

The nice thing with Luna is that she seemed to always know what everyone else needed. If you needed to talk she always had the right words, if you needed to be angry she helped you find healthy outlets, if you needed to cry she would hold you until it stopped. And then, for times like these when you just needed silence, she provided solid companionship with nothing demanded. He had said it before and he would again. She was going to be a wonderful mind healer.

When she finally spoke, long after the mountains claimed the sun and the stars began to twinkle before their eyes, it was not what he had been expecting to hear.

“I spoke with Harry on my way to dinner,” Luna said, “he seemed very sad. “I’ve never seen his aura so constricted and blue. He wouldn’t tell me what had happened, just to come to find you.”

Draco sighed. Of course, Harry thought of him first, even though he had been the one to run away and the one to freak out.

“I love him so much, Luna,” Draco said, looking up towards the ever-darkening sky. “I don’t know what to do. I know I want to be with him, have for a while. But it scares me. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want it to be hard and it will be with him. If I loved someone lesser, someone without the fame or presence he has, it would be so easy to slip under the radar and live a quiet life. Maybe people would eventually forget everything I’ve done. That’s never going to happen with him.”

“You’re right,” Luna said. “Choosing him will certainly not be the easy path. There will be people who will hate you just because you’re with him. He will be in the spotlight for the rest of his life no matter where he goes or what he does. I won’t act like this is something either of you should do lightly. But I have a hard time believing you would truly be happy with a quiet life where everyone forgot you. I know it probably feels that way now with everyone judging you and expecting things from you but that will fade. The sins of your past are just that, your past. Is it worth giving up on true love just because it won’t be easy?”

Draco sighed. “Probably not,” he admitted. “Whether I’d be happy in a quiet life or not I doubt I could ever be happy in life with anyone who wasn’t Harry.”

“He’s your soulmate, Draco,” Luna said. “I know you don’t believe me when I say things like that but it doesn’t make it any less true. The soul spills out of people via their aura. When you are happy and fulfilled it stretches far from you touching and affecting everyone it reaches. When two souls that are a match find each other the effect is even more brilliant, even blinding in its purity. That’s what I see when you and Harry are together. Even when we were kids you sought each other because your souls felt complete when they were near each other. You just have to be willing to take the chance. You love him and he loves you. You won’t lose each other once you finally find each other. Don’t let fear stand in the way of that.”

With that she stood, putting a hand on his shoulder for a moment, before disappearing back towards the castle leaving behind a very confused Draco. Not long later the reason for her departure becomes obvious as much heavier footfalls make their way through the leaves behind him. Draco laughed because of course, she knew.

“Draco?” Harry called out.

“Yeah,” Draco said, “I’m out here by the lake.”

Harry came over and sat beside him, not looking at him directly but sneaking glances here and there. “Hi,” he said, as his hands wrung together.

Draco reached out and stilled them with his own, meeting Harry’s eye. The other man immediately relaxed. “Hi,” Draco said.

Harry intertwined their fingers as they looked out at the lake, a full moon reflected against its smooth surface. Neither man, it seemed, knew quite where to start.

“Do you know much about Greek mythology?” Draco asked finally with a small smile.

Harry laughed quietly and scooted closer to Draco, close enough for his warmth to soothe Draco’s frayed nerves a bit. “About as much as you know about muggle television.”

Draco smiled, thinking back on their summer. That night seemed so long ago, yet here they were again, looking up at the stars with their hands together again. This time, however, Draco didn’t see them as doomed lovers who could only have the one night together. No, this time he had a much different story to tell.

“The Greeks had a story about a god named Eros and a beautiful princess named Psyche,” Draco began as Harry began tracing patterns on his palm. “You see, Eros had the power of love, he could make anyone fall in love with anyone else. Psyche was a beautiful mortal who was more desired than even Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. But she was lonely. The problem was that many would look upon her and admire her but none connected with her. Eventually, Aphrodite became jealous and demanded Eros make her fall in love with a horrible monster. Unfortunately, when he tried to do so he fell in love with her instead. Later, her loneliness became so strong that she begged for help from the oracle to find out if she would ever find love. She found out she would but it would be with a terrible monster.”

“Resigned to her fate, she went to the top of a mountain to await her love and fell asleep. Upon waking he found a beautiful mansion meant for her and an invisible man who would be her husband. They could be together so long as she never laid eyes on him. She was content to have that be her life and she believed she was happy. Unfortunately, she had two jealous sisters who convinced her that her husband must be a terrible monster and she should sneak a peak. So she did and when she found that her husband was the beautiful Eros she felt ashamed for breaking his trust.”

“Ultimately, he left her, feeling hurt and betrayed despite his love. He felt as if he couldn’t trust her and love cannot survive where there is no trust. She, of course, was heartbroken as she really did love him. When she went to Aphrodite to ask what she could do the goddess set impossible tasks. Yet each time creatures saw her love and determination and helped her. Eventually, when she nearly died, Eros found her and forgave her, bringing her to Zeus and making her immortal so they could be together forever.”

Harry was quiet as Draco finished his story. That one had been one of his favorites as a child. He always felt for the princess, beautiful and given everything she wanted but so alone. And then she finds her soulmate and nearly ruins it because of her doubts and because of people trying to sabotage her. But in the end, love and forgiveness prevailed and she got her happily ever after.

“I like that story a lot better than the last one,” Harry said after a few moments. “I think Eros was scared that he wouldn’t be enough, even though he was a god. He wasn’t sure love was enough. So when she got scared and betrayed his trust he used it as an excuse to run instead of trying to understand. But he loved her and she loved him. They were bound to work it out in the end.”

“You think love is enough?” Draco asked. “You really think it’s enough to overcome anything?”

“I really do,” Harry said, earnestly. “Love has saved me, over and over again. It was how I survived the killing curse, it’s why I had people willing to follow me into a battle we had every chance of losing, and it’s why I recovered and have found some happiness despite everything that’s happened in the last few years. I know it sounds cheesy as hell but love really is the strongest magic of them all.”

“Harry,” Draco said, finally ready to give in, as he leaned into Harry.

“If I kiss you are you going to run away again,” Harry asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Harry,” Draco said, pouring as much sincerity into it as he could. “I’m yours as long as you want me, how ever you want me.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Harry said as he climbed into Draco’s lap and crushed their mouths together.

This time there was no hesitancy from either man. They knew what they wanted and they knew they didn’t want to stop. It was love, it was passion, it was trust, it was friendship and honesty and real. It was everything they both had been waiting for, searching for. They just had to be brave enough to take it.

The kiss itself was hot and rough and raw. Teeth bit at lips, tongues fought for control, and hands held each other as tightly together as they could get. Draco had never felt as much primal want in his life as he did at this moment, with the man he loved grinding into his lap and pulling his hair.

Harry pulled back slightly, pupils blown as he looked at Draco, and Draco was mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that this man, this wonderful man, wanted him. Draco leaned up and kissed him again, just because he could.

“Did you mean what you said before?” Harry asked as he ran his fingers through Draco’s hair.

Draco smiled, “of course I did.”

Harry beamed then and pressed their bodies together. Draco could feel Harry’s hardness and he longed to touch him. But not like this, not here. “Harry, wait,” he said, just as Harry’s hands began to go for his trousers.

Harry groaned and put his forehead against Draco’s. “I don’t want to wait,” he said. “I just want you. Please don’t stop this again. Don’t you want me too?”

Draco laughed and pulled them both to their feet. “Of course I want you,” he said, kissing Harry slowly before beginning to pull them back towards the castle. “Harry James Potter, I have wanted you longer than I have even known. I want to touch every inch of your body. I want you inside me and myself inside you. I want to explore you with my tongue. I want to make you scream my name until you forget that you ever knew anyone elses.”

“Oh gods,” Harry moaned when Draco pushed him against the exterior wall of the castle, close to the front doors, and drew his tongue slowly up Harry’s neck before giving a soft nip to his earlobe.

“The only reason I stopped,” Draco said, leading hem back inside, Harry no longer fighting his lead, “is because I am in love with you. As a result of that fact, I don’t particularly want my first time, or the subsequent times that will follow, to be in the dirt with twigs poking my back as you drive into me. I want you on a soft bed where we can bury under the sheets, to cover you with pillows you can scream into as I make you come undone. I want to make you enjoy this for as long as I can and as much as I can. So we are going upstairs, if you don’t mind.”

Harry was breathless as he followed Draco into the dorms. Because everyone was mostly at dinner the common room was, blessedly, empty. As soon as they reached their hallway their restraint broke as Harry Pushed Draco into a wall and palmed him from the outside of his trousers, to which Draco promptly moaned into Harry’s mouth.

They stumbled their way toward Draco’s dorm. Since Blaise had basically not lived there since the start of term it made that room the obvious option between the two. He still took the time to do a quick charm so his friend knew it was best not to enter, and then they were inside. Draco quickly cast a locking and silencing charm, and then he and Harry finally came together with nothing else in their way.

Draco was determined to do this right. He loved this man, after all, and just a quick shag would not suffice. He was going to make this special and unforgettable.

He pushed Harry backward as they kissed, finally making him sit on the bed. Taking a step back, Draco slid the robe off his shoulders, followed by his shirt, trousers, and pants. Draco felt he should have been embarrassed, being totally starkers in a well-lit room with Harry, yet he felt exactly the opposite. Harry was looking over him as if he was the most incredible things he had ever seen and Draco felt drunk on it. Already fully hard, he was happy to have his body on display for this man. But he was also impatient.

Coming over to the bed, he made quick work of removing Harry’s clothes as well. He let his tongue and lips and teeth graze every new inch of skin he uncovered. It was better than unwrapping gifts on Christmas, he decided. As he explored, he committed each reaction memory. Harry was ticklish on his sides, his breath hitched when Draco ran fingers over his back, he moaned when Draco nipped his hip bones. Finally, Harry was naked too and Draco had never been more turned on in his life.

The truth was, Harry was beautiful. His skin was covered in scars and freckles, marks of both joy and pain. Draco had seen him before but this time he truly let himself look. Harry didn’t stop him.

“Lay back on the pillow,” Draco commanded softly.

Harry obeyed without hesitation which, Draco admitted to himself, was insanely hot. Before he went any further, Draco just took a minute to appreciate the man before him. Harry was truly incredible, lying there hard and willing and totally vulnerable, his complete trust evident on his face. Draco couldn’t wait any longer, he had to touch him.

He slowly brought their bodies together, allowing his skin to graze Harry’s as he slid over him. With their lips pressed firmly together, moving in a firm but unhurried rhythm, Draco let his hand wander over the rest of his lover. He traced both collar bones, pressed gently on his ribs, caressed his stomach, and let his hand glide slowly along his outer thigh. He touched everywhere except where he knew Harry wanted it the most.

After barely a minute of teasing, Harry whined against Draco’s neck. “Gods,” he said, voice breathy and tight with want. “Draco, please. Please touch me.”

Draco may have been a bit cruel but he couldn’t turn down the sound of Harry begging. Abruptly, he brought his hand to Harry’s shaft, swiping his thumb over his leaking tip and beginning to pump him slowly.

Harry’s eyes rolled back and the hand that wasn’t tangled in Draco’s hair gripped the headboard tightly behind him. “Oh fuck,” he said as Draco continued to draw him slowly closer to the edge. “Oh Fuck, yes, Draco, Yes!”

Harry continued to writhe below him, desperate for more but Draco wouldn’t give it. He was determined to draw Harry’s orgasm out slowly, giving the man as much pleasure as he could.

“Please Draco,” Harry begged. “Please let me come for you.”

“As you wish, my love,” Draco whispered in his ear.

With that he dropped between Harry’s legs, taking his full length in his mouth. Harry moaned loudly and tried to buck up but Draco held him firmly down by his hips, lavishing his cock with his tongue. Though it made him feel a bit dirty, he had to admit the way Harry tasted was addicting. A bit bitter but not unpleasant. Just knowing that it was Harry in his mouth made him moan. The vibration seemed to send Hary over the edge.

“Oh god,” Harry said, gripping Draco’s shoulder to the point he was sure he would have bruises. “I’m going to, I’m going to.”

And then he was spilling down Draco’s throat. He sucked him through every wave of his orgasm, every scream of Draco’s name until his breathing began to come down to normal again.

“That was,” he started, as Draco settled himself against Harry’s side. The man didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence and Draco smiled.

“That was only the beginning,” Draco said, kissing Harry’s neck.

Harry smiled before flipping on top of Draco. “I certainly hope so.”

With that, Harry began kissing down Draco’s body. He was still rock hard so he certainly wasn’t complaining when Harry’s mouth found his cock.

Draco let himself sink into the pillows as Harry worked him over. He couldn’t help but watch him. The sight of Harry’s head bobbing up and down, tongue darting out now and then to twirl the head before plunging it right down his throat again, was the hottest thing Draco had ever seen. What the man may have lacked in finesse he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

Draco could feel himself barreling quickly toward completion. He reached a hand out and threaded his fingers with Harry’s on his hip.

“I’m going to cum if you keep that up,” Draco told him.

Harry pulled up and locked eyes with him, smiling. “Good,” was all he said before lowering himself back down, sucking hard and never breaking eye contact with Draco.

Seeing those eyes, those brilliant green eyes, as his prick moved in and out of Harry’s almost swollen lips was enough and he soon lost all control, moaning Harry’s name as the man took down every last drop.

After, they laid together under Draco’s satin sheets, as promised. They allowed their hands to caress lazily over each other’s bodies, just reveling in the fact that the other man was truly there. It didn’t take long before Draco’s eyes began to droop as Harry cast a wandless spell to extinguish the lights.

“Show off,” Draco said with a yawn as Harry tucked himself tightly into Draco’s side. Harry laughed and the sound reverberated through Draco’s chest.

After a few minutes, Draco was nearly asleep when Harry shifted to look at him. Draco lazily opened his eyes to see Harry smiling down at him.

“By the way,” Harry said, “in case it wasn’t clear, I love you too, Draco.”

Draco beamed a sleepy smile at his lover and pulled him in for a slow kiss.

Harry loved him and he loved Harry. They still had a lot that could go wrong in their future but now, knowing they had finally found each other, he knew it would all be alright. After all, they had each other and together they could do anything.


	6. Epilogue

If Harry was being honest, he was beginning to get just a little bit annoyed with his boyfriend and his best friend. Today was the day NEWT results would come in and both Draco and Hermione had been pacing the library for the last two hours, discussing everything that could have gone wrong and things they were confident had gone right in their exams. It wasn’t long before Harry and Ron decided they had been through more than enough and abandoned the pair to their wallowing.

“Honestly,” Ron began as they started on their third game of wizarding chess that Harry was certain he would lose, “if someone had told me two years ago that my girlfriend and your boyfriend would be spending their time feeding into each other’s madness and actually understanding each other I would have said you were barmy. Honestly, just being around them is exhausting. It’s not like we don’t know they both demolished those tests.”

Harry laughed as he thought of the sight upstairs. Hermione’s hair, which she had grown better at taming in recent years, was wild and free, framing her head like a frizzy halo, and she constantly put it up and took it down and put it up and took it down. Draco wouldn’t be fairing much better. His shirt sleeves would be wrinkled beyond hope from pushing the up and taking them down, pushing them up and taking them down. The image managed to make Harry smile.

“To be fair,” Harry said as yet another of his pawns got taken, “I think if someone had told you two years ago that Hermione would be your girlfriend and Draco my boyfriend the shock of their getting along would hardly top the charts of surprises at that point..”

Ron snorted. “Fair point,” he said, “check by the way.”

Harry sighed. At this point, he was barely paying attention. Not even a minute later they were startled by a loud whooping sound from upstairs followed by near-hysterical laughter.

“That’ll be the results,” Harry said, “Shall we go up now and just pretend you’ve already beaten me?”

Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the shoulder, making him wince. His best friend truly never would learn his own strength. “Good call mate,” he said. “You really are kind of rubbish at chess after all.”

Harry shook his head and followed his friend upstairs. “Good thing you’ve got Draco now,” he said. “Not to mention Blaise.”

“I still think he’s cheating,” Ron began. But before he could start what had become a rather entertaining argument between the two of them at how Blaise managed to beat him nearly every time, Harry was suddenly crashed into with an arm full of enthusiastic Slytherin.

“Exceeds expectations!” Draco said by way of explanation. I can’t believe it. That’s the highest score possible. I’ve done it. I’m going to be a professor.”

Harry smiled and kissed Draco soundly, ignoring the joking gagging sounds of Seamus and Dean as they passed by in the hall. Harry flipped them the bird and allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

“This is all because of you,” Draco said between kisses. “You believed in me when no one else did. You kept giving me chances even when I didn’t think I was worth them. If it wasn’t for you I never would have had the bravery to try for this. I love you so much. Thank you.”

“I love you too, Draco,” Harry said, holding Draco tightly. “But I’m not the reason you got this. I might have helped you see the truth of your worth but you re the reason you got here. You earned every second of this. I’m so, so proud of you.”

“I’m pretty proud of me too,” Draco said, threading his fingers with Harry’s.

Harry turned to ask Hermione how it had gone but their friends had disappeared at some point. When Harry saw Hermione’s closed door he shuddered realizing where they had gone and forced his mind to a different topic.

“So,” Harry said, as they headed back towards Harry’s room, “now that all that stress, which was unnecessary by the way, is finally behind us can we start to get excited about the dance tonight.”

“Oh absolutely,” Draco said. “I didn’t spend months getting my toes stomped on and correcting your form to not enjoy the spoils of my hard work.”

“Is that right?” Harry said with a grin as he poked Draco in the side. “All your hard work? What about mine?”

“You’re right,” Draco said, pulling Harry on top of him on the bed. “You worked very hard. Would you like a reward?”

Draco rolled them again until Harry was nestled in the pillows and proceeded to put his hand down Harry’s pants, wrapping tightly around Harry’s erection, making him moan. No matter how many times they did this, Harry didn’t think he would ever get used to how incredible Draco made him feel.

It didn’t take long before they were naked and panting, not even trying to draw it out. They simply enjoyed each other’s bodies. All Harry knew was he wanted him. He wanted all of him.

“Draco,” he said, “I want you.”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat. “Do you mean…”

“Yeah,” Harry said, pulling him closer between his legs. “I want all of you. I want to feel you inside me.”

They had gotten close to this point a few times in the two months they had been together but never quite managed it. Harry wasn’t too proud to admit he had been scared. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to because he actually rather did. But he knew it would be somewhat painful and the idea of it all made him feel raw and vulnerable.

Still, he dreamed about it. Draco had used his finger more than once and it always felt good, leaving Harry seeing stars as he clenched down tightly around him. Besides, he trusted Draco and he loved him. He wanted them to be as close as they could be. He wasn’t sure why but tonight seemed like the night.

Draco cast a quick lubricating charm and began to work Harry with his fingers. It was a bit tight with two but still felt mostly good. All the while his other hand continued to lightly stroke Harry’s cock.

“How does that feel?” Draco asked as he began to lightly scissor his finger apart, pushing up gently on that exact spot Harry needed him the most.

“God, so good,” Harry said. “I think I can take more.”

And Draco obliged. It was bordering on too much but Draco took it slow, working through Harry’s tension ad letting Harry get comfortable. He could tell he was creeping closer to the edge and he knew he didn’t want to come without Draco inside him.

“Please,” he said, looking right in Draco’s silvery eyes, inky with lust. “I’m ready. I need you inside me.”

“Ok,” Draco said, voice shaking. “This might hurt a bit. I’m going to take it slow. Just let me know if you need me to stop or anything.”

Harry nodded and bit his lip as Draco lined up with his entrance. As Draco began to push in it did hurt. But with his hand still steadily sliding over his cock the sensation was bearable. Overwhelming, but bearable.

So Harry did his best to relax through the pain. When he was fully inside he shuddered and dropped his forehead to Hary’s.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded jerkily. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “it’s just a lot. I’m trying to have some semblance of control when I honestly just want to slam into you right now.”

Harry laughed and then gasped as the feeling went straight through him. He had never felt so full or so connected to someone. The pain was starting to fade and was quickly replaced with need. He began to move slowly causing Draco’s eyes to snap up to his. Harry nodded minutely and Draco began to move too.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry moaned, his head falling back. “You feel so good. Oh god, yes.”

Draco moved his hips slowly and torturously as Harry urged him on. He could feel his orgasm coming quickly and it was like nothing he had ever felt before. Draco was getting close too if his ragged breaths were anything to go by. His hips began to snap harder into Harry. It did still hurt but it was overshone with the immense pleasure coursing through every inch of his body.

“Yes, Harry, fuck,” Draco moaned in his ear. “Cum for me baby.”

With one, two, three more pumps Harry was spilling all over them both as wave after wave of pleasure rocked his body and he dug his nails into Draco’s back. It was not even a moment later that Draco shuddered and then spilled inside Harry as well.

The two boys lay together, energy spent, as they came down from their high. When Draco slipped out of him it was a strange feeling that left him feeling empty but sated. Draco laid his head on Harry’s chest as he threaded his fingers through Draco’s platinum locks.

“Was that ok?” Draco asked. “I know I lost control a bit at the end. I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Harry smiled and kissed the top of his lover’s head. “No more than expected,” he said. “I’m sure it takes a little getting used to but trust me, the pleasure greatly outweighed any pain.”

“That’s good,” Draco said and promptly yawned and snuggled deeper into Harry’s side, wrapping them in the sheets.

“Think we have time for a quick nap?” Harry asked, his eyes already falling shut as Draco cast a quick cleaning charm on them both.

“I think we are going to make time,” Draco said but Harry was already asleep.

Unsurprisingly, they were late for the dance.

In fairness, most of that was Draco’s fault. Between the many distractions in the shower they had shared (Draco insisted it was to save water before immediately dropping to his knees) and the insane amount of time it took the man to do his hair after (“perfection take time, Potter”) the real reason they were late was Draco. Harry could likely have been good to go in ten minutes but everything with Draco was at least an hour.

So they missed opening speeches, which Hermione chastised him for, but made it just in time for the feast. It was all of Harry’s favorites so he was glad they hadn’t missed it. Thankfully, just as Hermione was going into lecture mode, Luna ended up saving him.

“Not that I don’t see your point,” Luna told her, shocking Hermione into silence. She wasn’t interrupted very often. “But he was somewhat responsible for saving us all. If he wants to be a little late to enjoy some time with his boyfriend, well, I kind of think he deserves it.”

“She’s got a point,” Blaise said from the other end of the table. “If anyone can afford to be late to an event celebrating the victory he helped achieve I’m pretty sure it’s Harry.”

Hermione blushed. “Oh alright,” she said with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “I’m dropping it as its clear I’ve been overruled. I’m just glad you’re here.”

And Harry was, too. As topics moved on he couldn’t help looking around at his friends. They had come so far this last year. He never would have expected them to end up where they were now.

So they all talked and laughed, sharing treacle tarts and roasted duck, siping elf-made red wine and discussing where they all went next. It was fun and easy and Harry was happy.

Even when the dancing started.

“May I have this dance,” Draco asked, holding out his hand for Harry. Harry just laughed and followed his boyfriend out onto the floor.

They had been lucky enough to get the Weird Sisters again, so Harry already knew most of the songs. During the fast ones, everyone got together and jumped and laughed and sang at the top of their lungs. And during the slow ones, Draco took him into his arms and they spun in patterns now long familiar. He felt comfortable in Draco’s arms and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

What had originally begun as simply a way to not make a fool out of himself had turned into one of Harry’s favorite ways to be close to the love of his life.

A bit after midnight, the band was still going strong but Harry and Draco snuck out the back doors into the garden. From here they could see tons of stars, blinking and shining down on them. Harry was happy as Draco’s arms wrapped around him as they began to sway slowly to the music lightly filtering to them from inside.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco said with a light brush of their lips together.

“Where do you think we go from here?” Harry asked.

“Well,” Draco said, a look of mock seriousness on his face. “You’ll become an Auror and quickly rise through the ranks, rounding up every last bad guy you can find. Then you’ll get bored with the paperwork and tire of the bureaucracy and retire to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I will finish my apprenticeship and become the next potions teacher at Hogwarts, helping students learn to love the subject again, or maybe for the first time.”

“I like this plan so far,” Harry said, putting his head on Draco’s shoulder. “What about for us?”

“For us?” Draco said, voice soft and hopeful. “Well, our story is the best one yet. We get ourselves a nice cottage somewhere, maybe somewhere here in Scotland so we can enjoy the incredible scenery and air. After a few years, we decide to have children, probably a few knowing you. I can’t imagine you not having a huge family. So maybe three? I think I could live with three.”

“As long as we aren’t naming them with your family names in mind,” Harry joked.

“Hush,” Draco said, “I’m being romantic. Anyways, we do get married, sometime in early summer when it’s warm and clear outside. We travel the world together, have game nights with our friends every other week, and make sure we always have time for each other. And of course have loads of hot, kinky sex.”

Harry laughed and swatted Draco’s arm. “Prat.”

Draco smiled and kissed Harry. “The truth is, I don’t know for sure where we will end up. Things won’t always be good. We will still fight and struggle and not agree. But it’s all worth it as long as I have you.”

Harry smiled and kissed Draco soundly. He liked Draco's vision of their future. It sounded like his own personal happily ever after.

“That works for me,” Harry said, taking Draco’s hand and leading him back inside with their arms intertwined. “So, about that hot, kinky sex you mentioned.”

The End


End file.
